Time of your Life
by xX-Misty
Summary: Crossover between my series of A2A fics with Doctor Who; I am so, so sorry... When the Doctor and Clara make an emergency landing in the car park of 1998 Fenchurch East they immediately get off to a bad start with an angry Gene. But with wannabe companions, sprout interference, a clubbing Doctor and Daleks at the pub, losing his parking space is only the beginning of Gene's woes.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: Uuuuhhhhh I kind of don't know what to say… erm, I couldn't help this from happening. This is a crossover between my A2A fic series and Doctor Who. I know being in the crossover section some new readers might wander in and wonder what the hell is going on… basically I've been writing a series of Ashes to Ashes fics for almost 3 years so I totally understand that it won't be of interest to many, this is only going to appeal to a tiny percentage of my readers, but that's OK, I just wanted so badly to write this. For the two people I know will be reading, I hope this meets expectations!**_

**~xXx~**

**Prologue**

"Don't even think about it, Drakey."

"What?" Alex frowned innocently as Gene leaned back against the soft interior of his Aston Martin, waiting for the lights to change.

"'_Feels like a strange day'_, that's what you said."

"Well it _does!"_ Alex shrugged.

"No need to say it out loud!"

"Why not?"

"You've cursed us now, Bols," he told her, "you let those painted lips flap once too often and we're going to have plagues of locusts and be awarded a Michelin star for the bloody canteen sprouts."

"Oh don't be so silly," Alex pushed her hair back behind her ears and laid her head back against the head rest, "I just commented –"

"That the fabric of me world is about to tear and let all the loonies through."

"Gene!"

"You might as well have done, Bolly," Gene warned, "you know what this place is like. One minute we're combing the streets to clear up the dirt in the gutters, the next we've got a bloody circus unloading in the car park."

"Gene, _once_ that happened," Alex told him firmly, "and you know that was only because one of the elephants escaped."

"Bammo didn't have be befriend the bloody thing though, did he?" Gene began to turn a little red with anger as he recalled the incident from some weeks earlier, "flicking it peanuts out the widow, no wonder the sod didn't want to move on."

"Is that juggling club still stuck in the ceiling of the gents?" Alex asked.

"Nope."

"Who got it down?"

"Whoever the poor sod is that's been out cold in a coma for the last two weeks," Gene mumbled, hoping health and safety hadn't caught wind of the incident. He cleared his throat and began to move again as the lights changed and the traffic began to clear, "I'm not taking any chances Bolly. The minute you start saying the day feels a bit coco-loco I start building a nuclear shelter and going into hiding."

"Oh poppycock," Alex folded her arms.

"It's only ten in the blinking morning and we've already put in a bloody day's work," Gene reminded her, thinking of the raid they'd pulled off successfully in the early hours of the morning "let's just show our faces, stamp a few papers, slap a few twats and get back to bed before _Neighbours_ comes on the ruddy TV."

"You watching Neighbours?" Alex frowned, then settled back tiredly in her seat, "I _told_ you today felt weird."

~xXx~

"Doctor, is that supposed to be flashing?"

The Doctor noted Clara's concerned expression as she regarded the Tardis with suspicion.

"The question is," he began, "what is _anything_ 'supposed' to be doing at any given point?" he rushed across to her, almost weightlessly gliding through the air, "when you ask if it's supposed to be doing something you're putting your own boundaries and restrictions on it… and in fact on anything else in the universe... If you believe that it could not, would not or should not be flashing then you're stunting the growth of the possibility. By denying that it's allowed to flash are you stopping it from flashing or simply expressing your own _belief_ that it shouldn't be flashing? It's a universe were so many possibilities exist, we must not try to limit them with our should and should nots!" his eyes turned to a glowing area on a panel and a feeling of dread and anxiety came over him. "But," he swallowed, "_that_ shouldn't be flashing. No."

Clara's eyes opened wide and she looked at him in alarm.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means," the Doctor spun around, jumping between areas of the room to check on every display he could see, "that you might want to hold on tightly."

Clara froze.

"And are you going to share the reason for that?" she asked, sounding a little more alarmed with every word.

The Doctor finished leaping about and came to a halt in front of Clara, laying a hand on her arm. He looked her in the eye and told her seriously,

"Because we've hit an anomaly that's going to make Alton Towers seem like a relaxation tank," he told her.

"What do you mean an anomaly?" Clara demanded.

"If I knew _that_ it wouldn't be an anomaly!" The Doctor told her, "I'd have a nice, reasonable explanation for what was about to occur instead of vaguely naming it an 'anomaly'!"

"You're still not telling me _what's_ about to occur!" Clara said through gritted teeth as they began to experience some turbulence.

"We're about to enter the fifth dimension," the doctor cried and Clara shook her head.

"That was at _Chessington_, not Alton Towers!" she cried.

Their ride began to resemble the inside of a blender.

"The fourth dimension is time," the Doctor cried grasping the closest object to keep him steady "now we're encountering fifth dimensional space!" he shook his head, unable to work out what had suddenly gone so wrong, "parallel dimensions! Other universes that parallel our own."

"We're entering another _universe?"_ Clara clutched his arm as her feet started to lose their grip on the trembling, juddering ground.

"More or less."

"More or _less?"_

"Yes. More or less. Less or more."

"Meaning?"

The doctor swallowed. For once he felt out of his depth.

"I don't know," he uttered.

As the Tardis swerved and curved and jumped to a universe whose pull proved too great to decline those were the three scariest words that Clara had ever heard.

~xXx~

"What's that noise?"

Robin stopped still in the doorway of CID. He'd only been bringing up a few papers but the strange sound stopped him in his tracks.

As Simon pretended he wasn't really using Bammo as drawing pin target practice he looked up a little blankly.

"What noise?" he asked.

"_That_ noise!" Robin held up a finger as though that was supposed to help.

"I can't _see_ the noise, even if you point!" Simon complained and Robin sighed.

"Never mind, must just be an alarm or –"

But before he could finish his sentence the dull throbbing noise began to get a little louder and Simon froze.

"Wait, no, I can hear it now," he said.

"What _is_ that?" Robin looked around, glancing accusingly at one of the nearby computers in case the hard drive was going into meltdown, but as the volume increased his eyes rose and focused on the window. "What's going on out there?" he frowned.

"I don't know," Simon walked at quite a pace towards the window and peered outside. To Robin's dismay his face paled visibly and took on a look of distress_. "No."_

Robin hesitated.

"What?" he asked.

"_You have got to be fucking…"_ Simon swallowed and blinked, trying to clear the large blue item from his field of vision as it slowly faded in and out, accompanied each time by a wave of noise, "_kidding me."_

"_What?"_ Robin asked again as Simon spun around.

"Someone's having a bloody joke!" he declared.

"Why?" Robin frowned, making his way towards the window, "What's actually ou-"

But before he had a chance to finish his question an almighty boom sounded as the walls of reality found themselves smashed to pieces and a little blue box finally thumped to the ground through the tear that resulted.

All at once a shockwave travelled through the station, through the life that Gene's world had given every one of the men and women who worked within it. Eyes closed, muscles failed and bodies fell as a mass-fainting incident rendered the officers and detectives unconscious.

~x~

Outside, a door slowly opened and two faces peered out.

This was _not_ good.

They'd fallen ungracefully into the wrong dimension, they'd taken up some head honcho's parking space and above everything a horrid smell was wafting toward them from the canteen.

Worse than that, there was no chance on earth that the sonic screwdriver was going to work on sprouts.

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N: If you're wondering where this fits into my fic series it DOES have its place in canon, it's set after The Power Of Goodbye which I've only just started writing but there will be nothing in here that spoils anything coming up! This crossover is set on May 1998 :)**_


	2. Chapter 1: Who's That?

**Chapter 1**

"Twentieth century. Law-keeping. People scuttling around busily. Lots of paperwork. Sprouts."

Clara stared incredulously as the Doctor described the few facts he could glean about their current location.

"You're making this sound like a very bad Disney film," she told him, "we're in a car park. Anyone can see that."

"Yes," the Doctor honed in on a yellow Fiat and ran his finger along the bonnet, "the question is; _why?"_

"So… so that all the law keepers have a place to park while they do their paperwork and eat sprouts?" Clara followed the Doctor as he moved from one car to another, "what are you _doing_ exactly?"

The Doctor poked a couple more vehicles before returning to the yellow car.

"Fascinating," he said, "almost clocked up as many time-miles as the old girl," he glanced across to the little blue box, smouldering slightly from its unexpected 'emergency landing'.

"Are you trying to tell me that's a…" Clara swallowed, "a _Car_dis?" she cringed at her own pun. "Sorry. I hate me for that too."

The Doctor couldn't take his eyes from the vehicle.

"It might not be quite the glorious method of transport that we're used to but it's got something about it," he said.

"The question is," Clara began, "whether or not it's bigger on the inside." She peered through the window to the back seat. "From the suspicious stains on the upholstery I'd say it's big enough for _something_," she commented.

Together with the Doctor she backed away and began to take in a little more of their surroundings.

"There's something going on," the Doctor said as his eyes scanned the car park, "Something pulled us over here. _Something_ pulled us through the fabric of the reality we know. _Knew_."

"But what?"

"Not sure," the Doctor admitted, "might need to talk to a few of the locals."

"Like who?" Clara asked, looking around. The place seemed oddly quiet, but as they turned to the building a face at one window caught the Doctor's eye.

"The gentleman yonder!" he said brightly and grasped Clara by the sleeve. It was time to pay a visit to some twentieth-century law enforcement personnel.

~xXx~

"Oh _fuck_ no," Simon shook his head and backed away from the window. Not only had they seen him but they'd started to run in his direction. That was the _last_ thing he needed, especially considering the current situation.

His eyes scanned the office where a smattering of people lay on the floor, unconscious. Most of them had dropped the moment the Tardis materialised. Simon seemed strangely unaffected but he was powerless to do anything as he watched friends and colleagues passing out around him and after trying to revive them with a slap and failing he'd returned to the window to take another look at the most unexpected sight.

This was some kind of terrible, weird, twisted joke. It _had_ to be. He couldn't work out who or why or how, but it was.

"I fucking hate Doctor Who," he mumbled under his breath.

That wasn't _entirely_ true. He hated the series revival. Nothing after Seven existed to Simon. Sylvester McCoy was the last real Doctor. Sod the bloody TV movie.

But as much as he hated the show it didn't compare to how he felt about things he couldn't explain. There was a logical explanation for _everything_ with the possible exception of how _Eldorado_ ever got commissioned by the BBC, b ut try as he might he couldn't find one for the blue box in the car park.

"It's a joke, a bloody elaborate joke," he mumbled, "it's ninety eight… Jeremy Beadle's still alive, isn't he? It's a set up and he's behind it. Or Noel Edmonds. Is the House Party still on?" He shook his head, aware he was wasting precious time. He needed to work out what to do before some weirdo Doctor Who lookalike arrived in the office. _Robin_ would know. Robin would know what to do. If there was a logical explanation for something then Robin was the one who'd find it. Unfortunately the only thing Robin was about to find was how uncomfortable the floor was.

"Robin," Simon crouched over him, "_Robin_… Rob, come _on!_ I _need_ you! We've been invaded by lookalikes and the BBC props department has shit out a Tardis in the _car_ park!" he tried tapping Robin's cheek and he murmured but did little else. "_Robin_!" He tried a harder slap and a shocked and somewhat annoyed pair of eye opened wide. _"Rob!_ Thank _god,"_ Simon breathed, almost laughing with relief.

"You… _slapped_… me," Robin stared at him. Although Simon appeared upside down in his field of vision he could see him clearly enough to consider a revenge slap but before he had a chance Simon started dragging him to his feet.

"I'm sorry… Gene's out, and _he's_ got the smelling salts."

"Smel- _what_? What's going on?" Robin rubbed his head, "why am I on the floor?"

"You're not the only one, look around you!" Simon panicked, "the station's out cold!"

"Why aren't _you?"_ Robin demanded, then realised there were more important questions afoot, "and what the fuck is going on? What did you mean people were shitting in the car park? Has no one brought them in for questioning yet?"

"Not _literally_ shitting!" Simon protested, "There's a fucking Tardis out there!"

Robin hesitated. He blinked.

"Is this one of Gene's toilet jokes?" he demanded.

"_No!"_ Simon cried, "Go and look for yourself!"

Robin eyed Simon warily.

"What the hell… it's not April fool's day is it?" he scowled.

"I hope not," shuddered Simon, "unless someone imported it to May."

Robin stared at Simon then began to walk very slowly and unsteadily to the window.

"You've been under a _lot_ of stress lately…" he began.

"Rob, I'm not shitting you!"

"What's with all the 'shit'?!" Robin cried, "and anyway, you're talking rubbish because there's no – _fucking way that there's a bloody Tardis in the damn car park,_" Robin choked as he reached the window and caught sight of the object that was traumatising Simon so much.

"I _told_ you!"

"This is ridiculous," Robin shook his head, backing away from the window, "Oh god, no, Gene's setting us up."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know!" cried Robin, "_because? _Because he's _Gene!"_

"Where the hell would he get a bloody Tardis from?"

"How the hell do _I_ know?" Robin cried, "novelty shop?"

"What the hell kind if nov- no, it's not him," Simon shook his head, "the bloody thing _materialised_, I _saw_ it!" he frowned, "I was the only one who did. What the hell happened to you all?"

That was the first time that Robin realised the office was littered with unconscious bodies, still lying on the ground.

"Oh my _god!"_ he cried, thrusting his hands through his hair and staring on in a panic, "what happened to them?"

"Whatever happened to _you?"_ cried Simon.

"Oh god… _shit," _Robin frantically rubbed his eyes, "the last time this happened it was when something went wrong with time and we broke the pub."

"I know, I know," Simon remembered the day far too well.

"_Oh no,"_ Robin said quietly.

Simon froze.

"What?" but before Robin could start voicing ridiculous theories he started feverishly shaking his head. "Oh no, no, _no_, don't you even _think_ about saying it!"

"Si, look in the bloody _car_ park!"

"It doesn't necessarily mean there's something wrong with time just because there happens to be a Tardis in the car park," Simon began, aware it was probably the most stupid sentence he'd ever said, "what the fuck am I even _saying_? I'm not going there!" he couldn't even think about that right now. His main concern were the unconscious colleagues scattered all over the floor. "We need to help wake everyone up again."

"What's _wrong_ with them?"

"I don't _know_, I'm not a first aider!" Simon cried, "besides, the first aider is unconscious on the floor."

Robin spun around and caught sight of Jake's body lying limply on the floor.

"Oh _shit,"_ he stumbled towards him, trying and failing not to panic, "Jake?" He dropped to his knees and tried to shake him awake. "Jake it's me… wake up."

"Try slapping him," Simon said casually and Robin looked up in horror.

"I'm not _slapping_ him!" he cried.

"I'll do it then," Simon said quite happily and Robin scowled.

"What have you got against Jake?" he demanded.

"Sadly not my fist," Simon mumbled. He didn't know why he couldn't seem to get on with Jake, they'd just clashed since day one. Robin was about to reprimand Simon for his remark when he heard a low murmuring coming from Jake's lips and he looked down to see his eyelids trying to open. "_Jake_? Jake, can you hear me?"

The sound of Robin's voice seemed to give Jake a little push back to consciousness and he opened his eyes fully.

"My _head,"_ he groaned, "I don't remember getting pissed…"

"It's not a hangover, it's more like concussion," Robin said anxiously, "you passed out."

"You _all_ did," Simon added, rolling his eyes. "Except me. _Apparently_."

"_Marci!" _

The word flew from Jake's lips in a panic as he saw his oldest friend in a crumpled heap. "_Shit –"_

Still wobbly and disorientated Jake scrambled across the floor to her just in time to see her eyes starting to open as the rest of the room began to awaken.

"_Ohhhh,"_ Marci moaned as she tried to prop herself up on one arm, "what happened?" she blinked a few times, "I'm… on the _floor."_ That didn't make sense. Being on the floor after a night on the town, maybe, but not after a morning of heavy photocopying. Both she and Jake turned to Robin and Simon. "What's going on, sir?" she asked.

"What's happening?" Jake added, "Fumes or something? Do we need to evacuate?"

Simon and Robin exchanged a glance.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Simon told them.

"But if something's made everyone pass out –" Jake began but the stricken look on Robins face silenced him.

"There's something in the car park," was all Robin could say.

Jake blinked.

"_Something?"_ he repeated, "what kind of a _something?"_

Robin bit his lip.

"A blue one," he whispered.

Before anyone had a chance to question him further a buzz of energy whirled down the corridor as two figures, one slightly more enthusiastic than the other, entered the room amid a flurry of words.

"Nice interior," the gentleman began, "shame about the ceiling. Still, good if you want to play a game of upside-down chess!"

A slightly sheepish young brunette followed, her dark eyes turning from one person to another as she said,

"I'm sorry… too much sugar. I'm sure he'll calm down in a minute." She paused. "Maybe."

"Your doorman," the gentleman began, "nice fellow. Laying down on the job though." He didn't seem to be able to stop himself walking around and around; between desks, peering out of windows, circling the detectives, "I thought he might have a few questions for us but he was miles away, dreaming about falling crime rates, no doubt." He stopped his dashing and spinning and turning just long enough to ask, "so which one of you good law-keepers did I see watching from the window?"

Simon swallowed as he felt Robin's stare turning to him. His top lip witched with displeasure as he stared on.

"It was me," he said reluctantly.

"Good thing one of you was wide awake." The gentleman smiled amiably, "I hate arriving unannounced."

"No you don't," his companion pointed out.

"No, I don't, but I was trying to be polite."

From where he'd fallen, a bemused Bammo staggered to his feet, staring at the stranger. He swallowed hard before he finally managed to choke out,

"Who are you?"

The stranger beamed.

"Yes, exactly."

Bammo scratched his head.

"What?"

"No, you were closer the first time," the stranger told him, "I'm –"

"The Doctor," everyone turned as Jake's breathy gasp caught their attention and he slid across the ground almost as though gravity was not a thing that existed until he stopped right in front of the Doctor, hands stretched and head bowed, "oh my _god…"_

"Oh _shit,"_ Simon slapped his forehead as Robin cringed and tried to hide his face, "Great. World Supreme Champion Whovian is off on one."

"I can't… I mean, it's _not_…" Jake could barely speak. He stared at the Doctor's shoes and slowly his line of sight rose, taking in his full attire right up to the bow tie. He tried to scramble to his feet to shake the Doctor's hand but fell back to the floor in an ungraceful heap. "_Marci_," he whimpered, "Marci, help, I can't feel my legs, I've gone into shock." He waited for someone to help him up but when nothing happened he frowned. "_Marci_," he tried again.

But Marci was busy slinking across to the pretty brunette standing somewhat sheepishly in the doorway.

"Hello," Marci offered the girl a charming smile, "I'm Marci. DC Fell." She edged a little closer, "and you are…?"

"Not as important as your _life long best friend_ who needs _help!"_ begged Jake

"You need help alright," muttered Simon.

"_Stop it,"_ hissed Robin.

_"What?"_

"You're showing us up in front of the Doctor!" Robin hushed him.

"You don't buy into this as well do you?" Simon cried, his hands raised in the air, "oh for god's sake, someone's setting us up. They hired a lookalike and a big prop and a –"

"_Dalek_," an outraged voice declared.

All eyes turned to see a furious Kim in the doorway.

"What?" Robin wasn't sure he could cope with any more surprises.

"Who the _hell_ put a fucking _Dalek_ in my office?" Kim demanded.

"Erm," Robin swallowed, "I-I don't know if anyone… '_put'_ it there, exactly…"

"Well it didn't get there by itself, _did_ it?" Kim demanded, "how the hell did it get up all those stairs?"

"They float now," Jake said matter-of-factly.

"No they don't because there's no such _thing,"_ Kim said crossly, "who the hell's borrowed a bloody big prop and dumped it in my office? Is it for the road safety thing? _Please_ don't tell me one of us has to _wear_ it!"

"No, it…" Robin swallowed, "I think it really did… _appear."_

"Because we have a precedent for fictional crap appearing in the office, do we?" Kim asked. To her horror a sea of faces nodded.

"We do now," Robin told her.

She followed his stare to the unexpected arrivals in CID.

"Moring," the Doctor smiled amiably.

Kim hesitated. Then she swallowed.

"I-I think I'd quite like to pass out again now, please," she whimpered.


	3. Chapter 2: What's This?

**Chapter 2**

"Uh-oh."

Alex bit her lip and glanced nervously at Gene as they pulled into the car park and meandered towards Gene's parking space. She actually saw the problem before he did. Partly that was due to Gene's belief in his universal parking rights being so strong that he simply did not _believe_ that anything or anyone would have dared to park in his space.

But the big blue box caught Alex's eye before it caught Gene's and by the time he noticed it Alex had already braced herself for the fallout. She had a feeling this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Bolly," Gene's voice was flat and emotionless as he began, "In your expert opinion would you say that my parking space currently meets my expectations?" he paused momentarily as his face began to redden with a growing sense of fury, "Or has some micro-minded idiot actually parked a Smurf-coloured porta-loo in _my ruddy place?"_

Alex cringed and tried to slip as far back in her seat as possible.

"Gene," she began calmly, "this might be an excellent time for you to start those anger management lessons…"

"I don't need anger management," Gene hissed through gritted teeth, "I need to apply _fist_ management to whoever dumped this blue _bog_ in the place reserved for my deserving set of wheels!"

"Oh _no,"_ Alex groaned, putting a hand over her eyes as she shook her head .

"This is all your fault, Lady B," Gene told her, "you and your '_funny day'_ feelings."

"My feelings did not focus on portable toilets in the car park," Alex pointed out, then frowned, "Actually, that doesn't look like a toilet."

As Gene pulled up into the space beside it they were able to take a closer look at the blue box which had taken Gene's space so unexpectedly. They stepped out of the car and Gene began to circle it suspiciously, his brow adopting a deep scowl.

"I haven't seen one of these things since the day the first Missus Hunt broke her finger being crushed by a rough crowd buying bloody _Yellow Submarine_," he said, managing to look both pissed off and curious.

"No, the last time you saw one of those Paul _McGann_ was stepping out of it on bank holiday Monday, two years ago," Alex shielded her eyes from the sun as her line of vision rose upward, taking in the details of the strange construction.

"If this is some sort of ruddy police history stunt I'm going to have to test it as a filing cabinet replacement on whoever the _bastard_ was that planted this thing in my bloody _parking space!"_ Gene's voice became a little higher and a little louder with every word, his temper flaring.

"They've probably left it here temporarily while we were on the stake-out," Alex sighed, "Let's just get back in the car and take it as a sign to go home earlier than planned, leave the paperwork for tomorrow and take a lesson from the birds and the bees to appreciate the joys of spring," she raised her eyebrow but Gene was so angry that even her innuendo couldn't tempt him away from his mission.

"I'm getting this bloody box out of my spot if I have to stick it on a pair of roller-skates and push it out the car park meself," he huffed, stomping towards the building with Alex staring after him. She closed her eyes and let out her breath slowly.

"Oh _god,"_ she groaned, her hand rising to her forehead. All she wanted was to head home and catch up on some sleep. But while something was sat in the most prized spot in the car park it seemed her desires would go unfulfilled. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and began to hurry after him in case she was required to prevent an upcoming murder. "Why did I open my big mouth?" she sighed.

~xXx~

"You must all be admiring my bow tie."

Incredulous glances passed between Simon, Robin and Kim as the Doctor settled upon a most mundane reason for the stares he'd received.

"Yes," Kim said flatly, torn between going for security and screaming with shock, "that's it completely, We're in awe of your fashion sense."

"I'm sure some of you could pull off the look fairly well," the Doctor assured them amiably, then gave Simon a frown. "Not _all_ of you, maybe."

Instantly Simon bristled.

_"Hey,"_ he cried, "I could wear a bow tie if I wanted to." He paused and shuddered, "what the fuck am I even saying? I wouldn't wear a bow time if you _paid_ me."

"Yes, well," Kim continued warily, taking very slow steps as she began to edge around the Doctor, "I think bow ties are usually frowned upon when you're attempting to stop dangerous criminals in their tracks."

"Really?" the doctor frowned in confusion, "I always find it helps me to assist the safety of humanity with a touch of style."

"_Ri-i-i-i-ight,"_ Kim took a cautious step forward and slowly poked him in the chest with one finger as though expecting him to be some sort of hallucination. When she felt solid matter at the end of her touch she drew back with a gasp. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded.

"Uh, Kim," Robin began, "I'm starting to stress a little about the fact that there's a Dalek in your office. Did you leave it unattended?"

Kim turned to him with a frown.

"No, I brought it for walkies," she sighed, "what does it _look_ like?"

"_You touched him,"_ Jake jabbered in Kim's general direction, "you _touched_ the _Doctor!"_

"And the next time I touch someone it will be with a balled up fist unless someone tells me what's going on," Kim demanded.

"Can we get you anything?" Marci smiled at Clara, charmed by her pretty face, "tea or coffee? Something to eat?"

"Uhh," Clara hesitated, "maybe… some tea?" she shrugged a little as Marci scurried away with Jake calling after her,

"_Marci!_ How can you do this? You've completely ignored –" his eyes turned back to the feet before him where he still lay on the floor, _"the Doctor."_

"This doesn't make sense," Kim said, more to herself than anyone else.

"_Really?"_ Simon began, "a fictional character stands in the office and it doesn't make _sense_ to you?"

"It doesn't make sense because," Kim swallowed, "this is nineteen ninety eight."

"_That_ is the part that makes the least sense to you?!" cried Simon, "out of everything that we're witnessing right now it's the fact that we're days away from Geri quitting the _Spice_ Girls that worries you."

"_Geri's quitting the Spice Girls?!"_ suddenly Jake's awe turned to horror as he turned to Simon, his eyes full of fear.

"Oh god_damnit,"_ Simon groaned, slapping his forehead while Robin attempted to console him.

"It's OK, Jake, it's just a dirty rumour," he said, endeavouring to soothe him while Kim grasped Simon roughly by the sleeve and gave him a firm tug.

"If you say _one word_ of this in front of _Who-Head_ I will personally disembowel you," she threatened, "Simon, _think_ about this. This is nineteen ninety eight. What year does that man become the Doctor?"

"I don't know, I'd rather watch the carrot-straining championships than Doctor Who!" Simon flapped.

"I rarely watch it but even _I_ know it wasn't until like… two thousand and nine? Two thousand and ten? Come _on_, Simon, I don't care what _vegetable Olympics_ you would rather watch, Doctor Who is one of those things you know about whether you watch it or_ not!"_

Simon stared past Kim to the Doctor who was watching them with some interest.

"I think this might be some kind of street theatre," he commented, waiting for them to carry on.

Kim moved Simon a little further away as Robin rejoined them.

"If this was some kind of stupid prank they'd get a lookalike of one of the older doctors, wouldn't they?" she said crossly, "they'd rake up a spare McGann from somewhere. Or have Sylvester McCoy jumping out the sprouts in the canteen."

Suddenly Simon visibly perked up.

"Now _that_ I would _like_ to see," he began.

"_Shut up!"_ Kim hissed quickly, "This 'Doctor' does not yet exist. The eleventh Doctor will not exist for another eleven or twelve years!"

"What are you saying, Kim?" Robin asked with a shudder, "he's gone back in time?" he hesitated and then looked somewhat pained. "Yeah, I get that's a stupid question."

"Not as stupid as the fact that Doctor Who does not _exist!"_ Kim reminded them, "in case you'd forgotten. Talking about the guy like he's real." She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the Doctor who smiled amiably.

"He _is_ real!"

"I don't mean physically _present," _Kim carried on," I mean the character. That's some _actor_ guy."

"This is a world for coppers, not actors," Simon shook his head.

"Well something's gone mighty wrong then!"

"Who's the girl?" Robin asked, glancing at Clara who was busy being offered thirteen different kinds of tea by Marci.

"I don't know, I've never seen her," Kim shrugged.

"She looks like someone who used to be in Emmerdale," Simon said a little awkwardly.

"Oh _great!"_ Kim threw her hands in the air, "first Daleks in my office, next it'll be cows in the cells, or sheep roaming around in the car park."

"Nope, just a Tardis," Simon told her.

Kim aimed her finger at him angrily.

"_You're not helping,"_ she hissed.

Simon opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze. He swallowed and glanced anxiously at the Doctor again as he tried to fend off Jake who was intent on poking his bow tie.

"Oh _shit,"_ he mumbled eventually.

"Oh shit _what?"_ Robin asked with a frown.

Simon hesitated.

"N-nothing."

"_Something_," Kim corrected, "clearly something. Now are you going to tell us what the something _is?"_

Simon didn't want to. He really didn't, but the thought wasn't going to go away.

"You know there are more than two worlds," he whispered, "right?"

"There… are?" Kim narrowed her eyes, not sure she liked wherever this was going to lead.

"We've both experienced it, Kim," he hissed, "we're not the only ones either. Me, you, Gene, Alex. Go into a coma here, you end up in another place."

Kim swallowed, shuddering at the memory of her own experience.

"I hope this isn't going to end up with theories about a server falling on the Doctor's head," she warned.

"Gene and I talked about this," Simon said awkwardly, "we talked at length. We think this is just the tip of the iceberg. There must be thousands, _millions_ of other universes out there, running parallel to this one."

"Is the next line out of your mouth going to be a RedDwarf quote?" Kim asked accusingly.

Simon swallowed.

"More like… _paraphrasing_," he said.

Kim pulled a face.

"Avoid the word 'smeg' and I'll let you off," she said.

Simon sighed.

"Maybe there are many more than the two worlds we know," he said, "so this is the one we go to from the real world when we're dead or dying. Fine. But what about when we're stuck in comas _here?_ You've been through it, Kim. I have too."

Kim swallowed. She didn't like thinking about that experience.

"You did?" she whispered, and Simon nodded. "When?" she paused, "was it after the explosions?"

Simon nodded slowly.

"But mine was different to yours and Alex's," he said, "it was even different to Gene's. I went to…" he cringed, "Well I'm not telling you _exactly_ where I went to… let's just say it was a fictional place."

Kim narrowed her eyes.

"It's Red Dwarf, isn't it?" she accused and Simon hung his head.

"Like I said, I won't say where…"

"Shit, _Simon!"_ Robin slapped his hand over his mouth and tried not to laugh, "is _that_ why you won't wear your Ace Rimmer t-shirt any more?"

"_Shut up,"_ hissed Simon, "we're not talking about me anyway!"

"I think we are," Kim teased, "so did Lister like… feed you curries?"

"_I'm not doing this,"_ Simon slapped his hands over his ears.

"Oh come on, Simon, it's _us!"_ Robin tried.

"You can tell us!" Kim giggled.

"_You_ threaten me with physical violence every time I mention the show!" Simon reminded her.

"I'll make an exception."

Simon scowled and shook his head.

"My point _is,"_ he began, "I went into a coma where there were… fictional characters."

"Did you try to get off with Rimmer?" Robin asked and Simon turned increasingly red.

"_No I did not!"_ he hissed.

"Did Kryten iron your underpants?"

"_I'm not going into this!"_ Simon hissed, "but after I woke up I thought I'd gone crazy. Everyone else's comas were in places that were… _real_, to a degree. What if my coma put me in a place where a TV show was real and _we_ were fiction? Or my coma made it a real dimension?"

"This is all getting a bit weird for me," Robin backed away.

"I'm not buying this," Kim shook her head.

"Then find another explanation for the fictional _arsehole_ standing in the corner of the office!" Simon fumed, then glanced guiltily at the Doctor. "No offence," he cringed.

"Only a little taken," the Doctor assured him.

"_Would one of you care to explain to me why my parking space is currently occupied by the time-travelling porta-loo from hell?"_

The sight of Gene in the doorway came as something of a relief to Simon who couldn't face any more teasing about his unfortunate coma.

"_Gene_, thank _god,"_ he breathed, closing his eyes.

"Ahh," the doctor raised his finger in the air, "that could be me."

Gene thumped his way into the office and stood in front of the stranger, hands on hips.

"And who exactly are you?" he demanded.

The Doctor beamed.

"Right again!" he said.

Gene ignored that.

"You're looking a bit upmarket for a bloody toilet attendant," he said, "although with that haircut you might get mistaken for a bog brush."

Alex shuffled into the room, her eyes fixed upon the Doctor. She'd only spent a brief period of time back in the real world after awakening from her coma but the man looked familiar from trailers, pictures in the TV guide and maybe a couple of clips when she was channel hopping. She edged towards Kim and nudged her.

"Is that…?" she trailed away, feeling a little stupid.

Kim felt equally as stupid as she nodded.

"_Uh-huh,"_ she whispered.

Alex glanced towards the window.

"So that… _thing_… out there…?"

Kim bit her lip.

"Apparently."

Alex stared at Kim; the usually down-to-earth girl she could rely on to give a sensible explanation. She looked fairly perturbed. Alex was starting to feel the same way.

"When Gene told me not to say today felt strange," she began nervously, "he'd never been more right about anything."

The Doctor seemed extremely excited to meet Gene.

"A special one!" he declared, his eyes lighting up.

"_You're_ the 'special' one," Gene narrowed his eyes, "the kind of special we need a padded ambulance for."

"Go easy on him, Guv," Robin said a little nervously, "I think he's had a bit of a difficult landing."

"He'll be landing on his _backside_ if he doesn't shift that bog from my spot," Gene threatened.

"Ahh yes, about that," the Doctor began, "I may have a few… _minor_ adjustments to make before I can set off again."

"I'll also have a few 'minor adjustments' to make," Gene told him, "but mine will involve tightening your bow tie until yer face turns blue."

"I can do that anyway!" The Doctor smiled amiably but Gene's fury simply rose. He took a large step towards his office then turned around to glare at the Doctor with all the darkness of a winter's night and said gruffly,

"_You. Bogbrush._ A word in your shell-like, pal."

Simon took a step back and swallowed.

"_Uh-oh,"_ he shuddered, "that's not good."

"Oh no," Alex sighed, her hand covering her eyes, "I really don't want to see what's about to happen." She glanced at Kim. "Can I hide in your office?"

"I wouldn't if I were you," Kim said weakly.

Alex looked alarmed.

"Don't tell me you have an army of cybermen in there?" she guessed.

"Sadly you're not as far away with that guess as I wish you were," Kim told her.

The Doctor seemed oblivious to the kerfuffle around him as he rushed through the office towards Gene's door and smiled happily as it opened for him.

"Thank you," he told it, giving it a pat on the glass before he entered.

The gesture made Gene's fury a hundred times worse.

"_We'll be 'aving words later,"_ he told the door, then slammed it behind him as he stepped inside. It was time for the doctor to receive a debriefing, _Gene Hunt style_.


	4. Chapter 3: What Now?

**Chapter 3**

The door opening had been the last straw for Gene. If this bow-tied brat got out of the office without meeting his filing cabinets he was going to be very lucky indeed. He moved behind the security of his desk to ensure he had the premium glaring space and stared at the Doctor.

"It's _fascinating,"_ the Doctor breathed in awe, "you're a whisker away from being a Time Lord, but you have absolutely _no_ special powers whatso_ever!"_

Turning his glare up a notch, Gene got to his feet. He stepped out from behind his desk for a moment and stood with his legs akimbo.

"I don't think me missus would be saying that," he scowled but the Doctor ignored him.

"The little yellow box on wheels," The Doctor signalled into the car park, "is that your spaceship?"

Gene wasn't sure he could get any angrier.

"The only _space_ around here is the one between your ears," he barked. A pang of sadness struck him in the chest as he realised the Doctor was talking about the Fiat and with a slight sigh he admitted, "No. Not any more. Someone else takes her off home now."

"Oh! The _angry_ one!" the Doctor said brightly, glancing through the glass into CID.

Gene stared at him, completely bewildered. He could only have meant Kim. How the hell did he know that?! Had he been checking their _log_ books before Gene got there?

"The only car of my concern is the one mourning the loss of its natural habitat," Gene spat furiously, "Get yer big blue _bog_ and _move_ it!"

"Ahh, yes," the Doctor looked a little more sheepish, "terribly sorry about the intrusion."

Gene folded his arms.

"No you're not."

The Doctor hesitated.

"Alright, I'm not," he said, "but it's as inconvenient for me as it is for you, believe me."

"I doubt that," Gene narrowed his eyes.

"It _is,"_ the Doctor told him, "I was trying to get to the nineteen ninety eight Wimbledon final."

"Well you're a long way off, _pal_," Gene told him crossly, "you've got two months to wait and you're not spending them in my station."

"Clara's such a fan of Pete Sampras, you see," the Doctor continued, oblivious to Gene's tone, "always wanted to see him playing live. And what a _win!"_

Gene grabbed the nearest file from his desk so that he had something to scrunch up in fury.

"Thank you for spoiling the entire grand slam in one easy step!" he barked.

"The thing is," the Doctor began, "something threw us off course. Or should I say, _pulled_ us off course."

"You don't say."

"I do. I say, because it's true. Somehow we were… pulled by an irresistible force."

"That'll be me aftershave."

The Doctor stepped towards him until he just about invaded Gene's personal space. He looked at him seriously and for a moment his cheery, oblivious exterior faded.

"I'm not from around here," he told Gene.

"Really?" Gene swallowed, "you do surprise me." He stared the Doctor in the eye. "Funny thing is, nether are most of the coppers in this station."

The Doctor hesitated.

"No?" he watched Gene shake his head. "Then where are they from?"

Gene tightened his jaw.

"Think you should answer yer own question first," he said. The Doctor remained silent. "Only, thing is, some of my team seem to have fallen at your feet."

"It's the bow tie that does it," the Doctor said, blushing a little.

"There's a blinking great Police Box in me parking space. I'm not a bloody idiot."

The Doctor swallowed.

"No," he said, "you're not."

"Only thing is," Gene continued, "what I can't work out is why sensible, down to earth detectives and coppers are talking about daleks in offices." He fixed the Doctor in his stare. "I don't know who you are," he told him, words that Gene hated to say.

"I'm the Doctor." The reply was quiet and said without a trace of pride.

"You're not," Gene said flatly, "two reasons for this. The first is that there's no such thing. The second is that, though there are about four billion Mc_Gann _brothers, you're not one of them."

The Doctor just stared.

"I am the Doctor," he said again.

Gene stared back. There was an honest innocence in The Doctor's eyes. It was proving very hard for Gene to ignore. Even his common sense and the bizarreness of the situation could not compete with that. He recalled watching all those past incarnations of the Doctor, one by one, as his life in death had progressed. It was a mainstay of British TV and many generations had grown up with it inspiring them, firing their imaginations. Hell, Gene even remembered hiding behind the sofa once. But it was a television programme, and one that had been cancelled some years ago. The TV film hadn't sparked anything new. Whoever this man was, Gene had never seen him before.

"I think you're delusional," Gene told him firmly, "which hospital you from?"

"I'm not that kind of a Doctor."

"I meant as a patient."

"I make a terrible patient. They don't like the hearts."

Gene narrowed his eyes.

"Hearts?"

Gene stared on as the Doctor nodded and Gene found himself biting his lip. _Two bloody hearts._ He remembered that. A strange feeling washed over him as he thought about people who had passed into his world, the ones who were halfway there, the _floaters. _The ones who 'knew'. Something that so many of them had in common was the kind of proof that they looked for to see how real the world truly was. Just pressing their hand against somebody's chest to feel their heart beating did more for their perception of reality than any number of words ever could.

Gene stared at the Doctor. They'd been talking for several minutes and yet they'd achieved nothing, absolutely sod-all, except perhaps for allowing Gene to place a rather hefty bet on a certain tennis player. He knew this was a big bunch of bollocks. It _had_ to be. There was no other explanation.

And yet something felt wrong.

Something felt off.

Gene could feel his own heart racing. _Heart, singular_, he was careful to note.

He closed his eyes as he recalled the day Alex had arrived, the moment she pressed her hand to his chest and felt that heart beating away. The memory made him shudder a little with nostalgia. He opened his eyes again and stared at the man whose eyes were pure and bore no mask. _Shit_. What the hell was he doing? If anyone saw him… he was _never_ going to live it down. But he had to know. As stupid and ridiculous as he absolutely knew this was, he had to know for certain.

Very slowly he stretched out his hand. He hated himself for it. With every fibre of his being he hated himself for it. This was not an action that came naturally to Gene Hunt. He took a deep breath, fixed a serious stare upon the Doctor and pressed his fingers to the left hand side of the Doctor's chest. He could feel a heart beat thrumming beneath the material of the Doctor's shirt. The knowing look on the Doctor's face made Gene feel nervous. He almost lost his nerve but one way or the other he needed to know.

He took a deep breath.

Then he reached out with his other hand and pressed it squarely over the other side of the Doctor's chest.

He pause momentarily, swallowed and looked the Doctor square in the eye.

"_Bugger."_.

~xXx~

"What even is going _on_ in there?" Robin tried to strain to see through the glass.

"I think," Marci began, "The Guv is getting gay with the Doctor."

"_What?"_ Robin tried to get a better viewpoint.

"I think he's trying to pull your boyfriend," Marci teased Jake who blushed.

"He is _not_ my boyfriend!" he hissed, "My interest in the Doctor is in a purely platonic sense!" He could feel his cheeks reddening, "I'm just… _awed_," he said, "Overwhelmed." He took Marci by the arm and pulled her slightly away from the others, looking at her urgently, "Marci, you know what this means, don't you?"

"The Guv's decided if you can't beat 'em, join 'em?"

Jake rolled his eyes in frustration.

"What's always been my lifelong ambition?"

"To be the first member of the Geri Halliwell fanclub to make Detective Inspector?"

"Not that one," Jake hissed "the _other_ one!" he paused and drew in his breath, "To be the Doctor's companion. Travel the world, explore the stars! Make a mockery of time. Nowhere and nothing off-limits,"

"Jake, that's just fantasy land," Marci hissed.

"He's _here_, he's _right here,"_ Jake flapped his arms so strongly that Marci feared he was about to take off. "Marci, _look_ at him. He's large as life, whatever's going on, however this is possible, it's _real."_

Marci hesitated as she began to realise just how little they had questioned the strange events that were taking place. She knew on the one hand that Doctor Who was about as real as Kim's hair colour. On the other hand, the evidence was right in front of them. Seeing was believing, and right then all she could see was the Doctor attempting to ward off a trip to the filing cabinet with his sonic screwdriver.

"Jake," she began hesitantly, "I'm not sure that I know what's happening, but…"

"But Marci, this is _it," _Jake grasped her by the arms, looking at her with eyes that sparkled with excitement, "he's really here, and this is my chance. I'm going to be a time traveller, Marci. I'm going to ask him."

"Ask him what?"

"To let me join him on his journey. Let me accompany him as he faces untold delights and terrors. I'm going to be a companion, Marci! I'm going to prove that I've got what it takes!"

Marci stared at Jake. She felt a growing boulder in the pit of her stomach. Swallowing, her downcast expression surprised him.

"You'd really do that, would you?" she asked him. He wasn't sure what she was asking. "You'd really up and leave like that?" she watched him blinking, as though he had no idea what she meant, "Me, Robin, all your friends, your career… we mean that little to you?"

"Marci," Jake's voice was quieter, "no, no, you _know_ that's not true."

"Do I?" Marci swallowed, "only, it sounds that way."

"Marci," Jake said quietly, "you're my oldest friend. You know you mean the world to me. The last thing I'd ever want is to hurt you. But this is the opportunity of a _lifetime!_ And it's not like I'd be running out on you. I could go off in the Tardis tonight, spend a year roaming the galaxy and get dropped off in time for tomorrow's latte run."

Marci swallowed.

"If you come back at all," she whispered. She knew full well there were no guarantees.

"Marci," Jake said quietly, "all my life I've been just another statistic. I never did anything out of the ordinary. I got into the force because I was trying to follow in my father's footsteps to give us common ground. I went for promotion because I was still trying to make him happy. I picked my college courses because we wanted ones where we would be together. I've never done anything for _me_. I just want that. Just one thing that makes me special."

Marci starred at him, surprised how heavy her heart felt.

"You _are_ special," she told him.

"Something that makes me stand out from the crowd."

Marci swallowed. She could see Jake's heart and mind were set on his impossible goal and nothing was going to change them. The thought of leading her life without her best friend was too painful to bare but she couldn't stand in his way, not of that was what he truly wanted.

"Well," she whispered, "Good luck. Good luck with everything." She hung her head a little, "excuse me."

Jake barely even noticed Marci's sad expression as she slipped away, heading into the corner for a moment of quiet reflection. He didn't want to be without Marci, of course he didn't, but this was his dream. Maybe she could tag along? Maybe they could have a Fenchurch East excursion to the outer reaches of the universe? Anyway, it was all academic if the Doctor didn't want a new companion. He had a long way to go yet. Until then, he just had to focus on his dream.

X

Clara stepped towards Marci, her eyes on Jake.

"The tall blonde fella," Clara began, "is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" the question caught Marci off guard, "Oh, no, no," she laughed a little despite her worries, "_Best_ friend. He's been my best friend for years. But no, he's not my boyfriend."

Clara raised an eyebrow slightly as she tried to subtly check Jake out.

"Really?" she said, giving an approving glance in his direction.

Marci cleared her throat as she realised the focus of her attentions had turned her _own_ to Jake.

"He does _have_ one though," she frowned.

Clara sighed and shrugged.

"Oh," she said, a little disappointed.

Quite suddenly a figure flew in, grasping the door frame to stop herself from running too far and barrelling into her colleagues.

_"Sir!"_ she cried.

Robin looked around to see a frantic Shaz calling him.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"One of the dogs slipped out the unit!" Shaz said breathlessly, "it got into the car park!" She took a deep breath and tried to finish her sentence, "and he's doing something… _unspeakable."_

Robin swallowed.

"_Uh oh."_

~xXx~

Gene swallowed hard. Slowly he removed his hands from the Doctor's chest and looked him in the eye.

"You might want to get that looked at," he said grimly.

The Doctor gave him a knowing look.

"I think I'll be alright," he said, "they've not given me any problems yet."

"No," Gene stared at the Doctor and surreptitiously wiped his hands on his trousers. "What are you doing here?"

There were no smart comments, no innuendos, nothing. Just a serious question he needed to know the answer to. Unfortunately the doctor couldn't give him one.

"Wrong turning," he said quietly, "took the wrong exit and found myself in a different universe."

Gene stared out of the office. He could see his team talking frantically amongst themselves.

"You need to leave," he told the Doctor.

"After the warm reception they gave us?" the Doctor seemed a little put out, "I thought we might stay for lunch at least!"

"Don't give them any reason to ask questions," Gene told him grimly.

"Asking questions is a basic necessity!" The Doctor disagreed, "it shows a healthy thirst for knowledge!"

"A knowledge that's gonna lead to a ceiling full of stars," Gene told him.

"Sounds like the _best_ kind," the Doctor told him and found Gene's fist wrapped around his collar.

"Listen, _Bowtie Boy_," he barked, "me world's a bit more fragile than the one you're used to. Doesn't take much to shake it. So I want you and your big blue penis-extension off my property before you can say Cybermen."

"Ahh, well, I'll have to –" the Doctor began when he froze up visibly as a photograph on the wall caught his eye. "You…"he stuttered and stammered, "who… I…"

Sam Tyler's face stared back from the picture.

"Are you going to finish your sentence or do I have to extract the end of it with a pair of blinking pliers?" Gene demanded.

The Doctor swallowed. He felt his head spinning and his hearts were thumping.

"Your friend," he breathed, "reminds me of somebody."

Gene let go of the Doctor's collar and gave him a firm shove.

"If you've finished gorking at my old DI it's time to shift yer box," he grunted. While the Doctor stared at the photograph on the wall Gene walked slowly to the window, folded his arms and stared out at the car park. "Bloody eyesore sitting in my space!" he scowled, "Got the prime spot, I have. They've been trying to do away with it. Poncify the car park. Stick in a flower bed. Plant a rose."

The Doctor froze.

"Rose?" he repeated.

"Maybe stick in a couple of ponds."

The Doctor let out an agonised cry.

"_Ponds?!"_

"But my car has always taken pride of place," Gene concluded, "unlike your big blue excuse for a –" he paused, "_Dog toilet."_

"You are a very rude man!" The Doctor told him but Gene shook his head.

"I told you that thing was a porta-loo," he said.

"What?" the Doctor frowned and stepped a little closer until he could see the Tardis parked in the car park where a dog was happily using it to relieve himself. It glanced up at the window as he cocked his leg. "Oh _no!"_

Gene stepped back, his grim expression finally breaking way to a smile brimming over with smugness.

"Looks like I'm not the only one mistaking yer intergalactic wheels for a commode," he said.

The Doctor turned to Gene in fear.

"She's not equipped to repel canine urine!" he cried.

"Looks like your transport's gone to the dogs," Gene sniggered but his joke was wasted on the Doctor who was already flying towards the door which just about opened in time to let him through.

"Doctor?" Clara looked up in alarm, "What's the matter?"

The Doctor barely caught his breath.

"Dog," he breathed, "Tardis. Toilet. Piddle everywhere."

Clara's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"I'll get the mop," she said as Robin cried to Shaz,

"So _that's_ what you were talking about?"

As the Doctor clasped Clara by the sleeve and dragged her toward the door he found a tall blonde man grabbing his arm.

"Take me with you!" he cried urgently as the Doctor turned around in surprise.

"And is 'Me' your name, or…?" he asked, frowning a little.

"I'm DS Dawson," Jake said, his legs trembling beneath him, "Jake Dawson."

The doctor eyed him critically. He looked like he belonged in a boyband but wouldn't look completely out of place, despite only having the regulation one nose for a human.

"Alright, _Jake Dawson_," he said, "come. But bring a sponge."

Jake punched the air.

"_Yes,"_ he cried, then he disappeared out of the door with The Doctor and Clara to begin a clean-up operation of epic proportions.


	5. Chapter 4: When's That?

**Chapter 4**

The Doctor's feet clattered towards the Tardis at high speed with Clara and Jake following close behind and several other curious, confused coppers and detectives in hot pursuit.

"That pay-rolled puppy had better not go for a follow up on my Aston Martin!" Gene yelled as he ran along somewhere behind.

"Oh _no!"_ The Doctor thrust his hands up in the air, "Stop it! _Stop_ that thing! It's leaking all over a very sensitive piece of equipment!"

"I'll be doing serious damage to _your_ sensitive equipment if you don't get out of my car park pronto-tonto," Gene warned him.

A uniformed officer grasped the dog and slipped the lead onto its collar.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry sir," he cried, addressing a slightly breathless Robin, "training hasn't been going well today."

"How did it even get _out?!"_ Robin cried, a hand rising to his forehead in distress.

"We all blacked out!" the officer said apologetically, "we were preparing to take the new dogs on a training exercise and the next thing we knew we were flat out on the floor and one of the dogs had disappeared.

"My Tardis!" the Doctor cried as he dropped to his knees, dangerously close to a pool of piddle, "my beautiful _Tardis!"_

"Is it alright?" Jake asked, "I mean, after everything it's survived…"

"She's never had to face dog kidney offerings before!" the Doctor informed him, "_Ohhh_ this is not good."

He opened the door and leapt inside with Clara following just behind. Jake glanced around, unsure whether he was permitted to follow or not.

"Should I…?" he hesitated, waiting for someone to offer him advice but the Doctor's voice called from inside the Tardis;

"_Last call for the bleached, floppy haired one to come aboard."_

"I think that's you," Robin said, a little unnecessarily.

Jake swallowed and swept his fingers through the aforementioned bleached, floppy hair.

"Right," he said. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and steeled himself. "On board I go."

The others watched nervously as Jake put one foot inside of the Tardis.

"_Jake,"_ Marci called after him and he glanced behind him. She looked scared and upset but just about managed to whisper, "_be careful."_

Jake gave her a grateful smile and nodded, then he stepped inside.

"What… just happened?" Simon asked.

"I'm… not sure," Robin scratched his head, "He's… just stepped into a fictional spaceship in the shape of a police box. Nothing makes sense any more." He turned to Kim. "_Hold me,"_ he whimpered.

"Man up and get your boyfriend back," Kim told him.

Robin glanced back at the Tardis.

"Right," he said, swallowing nervously. He thought about stepping on board, tried to persuade his feet to move but he just couldn't do it. "Look, why don't we send a dog in instead?"

"Because the dog got on _so well_ with the _outside_ of the Tardis that what the Doctor really needs is more dog pee on the _inside?"_ cried Marci.

"This is a nightmare," Simon shook his head, "in fact, it goes beyond that. Calling it a nightmare is an insult to nightmares."

"Are you jealous?" asked Marci.

Simon almost choked on thin air.

"What?" he cried.

"I mean, you're the biggest sci-fi nerd we know," Marci told him.

"That is true," Shaz nodded.

"You must be so excited by all of this!" Marci told him and Simon gagged and choked.

"Just because I happen to like _some_ science fiction does _not_ mean I'm automatically a fan of Doctor Who!" he cried in horror.

"Oh _yeah!"_ Shaz had only caught Marci's part of the conversation. "You and Jake have something to bond over at last!"

Simon's face turned redder than a post box with fury.

"I am _not,"_ he cried, "bonding with that _Who-Head_ over _anything!"_

Robin flapped at him a little ineffectively as though trying to cool him down.

"Si, leave it," he cried, "they didn't know how you felt about it!"

"Well they do now!" Simon stomped, "Seven was the last true Doctor!"

"What about Eight?" Marci let slip before she could stop herself.

"_He doesn't count!"_ Simon fumed.

"Why doesn't he count?" Kim frowned.

"Ignore him, he's quoting _Queer as Folk_," Robin sighed and folded his arms.

"He'd better stop, that's not even out until next year," Kim pointed out.

"I am deadly serious!" Simon cried, "and if _one more person_ accuses me of being a fan then I'm going to personally ensure the next Doctor they see will be a _medical_ one!"

X

Jake tiptoed into the control room, his eyes scanning the vast expanse, mouth open in awe.

"_I'm not gonna say it, I'm not gonna say it,"_ he muttered over and over, "I am _not_ a cliché. I am _not_ going to say it."

"Well?" the Doctor glanced in his direction, "What do you think of it, Jake Dawson?"

Jake swallowed, his lips dry and his mouth following suit.

"Its bigg-" he flinched as he realised he was going there anyway. Coughing a little, he tried to change the direction of his comment, "-bigger than I was expecting," he said.

The Doctor looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts," he said grimly.

"Doctor, is the Tardis OK?" Clara asked anxiously, "the dog…"

The Doctor leapt from one panel to another, checking some facts and statistics before he turned to Clara looking frustrated.

"It looks like our Wimbledon visit might be delayed a little longer," he said.

"That's some powerful dog pee," Clara frowned.

"The dog found a weak spot," the Doctor told her, "the Tardis is designed to repel rainwater, galactic dust, even the occasional meteor but the chemical composition of dog urine is its weakness!"

"Have you never experienced a…" Jake hesitated, "leg-cocking incident before?" he asked.

"Aside from the time I had a little too much of the local liquid delicacy –"

"Doctor, he doesn't need to know about that," Clara hushed him frantically.

"So," Jake tried to move the conversation on a little "what exactly does it mean? Can it be fixed?"

"It can be fixed but can't be hurried," The Doctor told him.

"How long will it take?" Jake asked.

"About as long as it takes for dog urine to dry." He looked at Jake. "Do you have any idea how long that would be?"

Jake blushed furiously as he admitted,

"Unfortunately I do. Never go to the Canine Division's annual Easter tea."

"It'll take until tomorrow morning for the delicate fabric of space and time to dry," the Doctor continued.

"Ahh," Jake cleared his throat, "I wasn't sure how long space and time would take to dry. I was personally referring to trousers."

"And by then she should be in a position to complete the last of the repairs. A little fine tuning and we should be on our way around a day from now."

"A day?" Clara cried.

"Don't worry," the Doctor began, "it just gives us an extra twenty four hours to work up our anticipation before the big match!" he made a motion that was supposed to symbolise serving in a tennis match but ended with Jake clutching his eye in pain. "Sorry," the Doctor apologised.

"Doctor," Clara hissed, "unless you haven't noticed there is a large man with a bad tie waiting outside who seems to have taken exception to you. I don't fancy sharing a packet of crisps and a cup of tea with him while we wait for the ship to dry out."

"He's warming to me," the Doctor said confidently.

"I don't think he is, unless by warming you mean 'seething'."

The Doctor looked a little more nervous. He swallowed and straightened up his bow tie.

"He's got twenty four hours to warm to me," he said, "come along –" he turned to Jake, "whoever you were again."

"Jake," said Jake.

"Yes, that."

The Doctor led Clara and Jake out of the Tardis where an angry Gene was waiting, tapping his foot and checking his watch like a game of Sonic the Hedgehog abandoned mid-level.

"Nice of you to come back to say your goodbyes but we don't want to hold you up," he said.

"Ahh," the Doctor began.

Gene narrowed his eyes.

"I hope that 'Ahh' was the start of a sentence about how you'd love to stay but can't _possibly_ intrude."

"Well, no," the Doctor began, "I will be staying for a little more of the… local hospitality," he swallowed as he saw Simon stand alongside Gene with his arms folded.

"How long _exactly_ are you staying for?" he demanded.

"Just a day."

"A _day?"_ Simon cried.

"Tell me you're talking Martian six-minute days and not our twenty four hour ones," Gene scowled.

"Actually a day on Mars is twenty four hours, thirty nine minutes and thirty five seconds," Jake interjected and soon wished he hadn't.

"Which is exactly how long you're going to spend with the filing cabinet if you don't learn when to hold yer tongue, Dawson!" Gene cried.

"We'll be gone this time tomorrow," said Clara.

"And where am I supposed to park my car until then?" Gene started to turn red as his anger rose.

"How about in the driveway at home?" Alex begged, "come _on_, Gene, I think I've had all the fictional characters I can take for one day."

Gene glanced at Alex who was looking bewildered and hassled, but as he looked back at the Doctor and remembered feeling two heartbeats he knew that Alex was wrong about one thing. This was _not_ a fictional character. He was there, as large as life. He could see the Doctor staring back at him as though he knew exactly what Gene was thinking.

"_One day,"_ Gene snapped, "twenty four hours. Then this periwinkle piss-box goes back to whatever corner of the proverbial it came from. Is that clear?"

"Understood," the Doctor nodded.

"A few ground rules," Gene carried on, "stay out of my office. Keep yer nose away from my cases. Don't disturb my team while they're hard at work. And if you point that sonic screwdriver in my direction I'll shove it so far down your throat you'll be able to zap yer underpants, is that clear?"

The Doctor swallowed.

"Perfectly."

"Good," Gene folded his arms, "then get back inside before Batman's mutt brigade mistake you for a fence post and give you the same treatment they gave yer box of horrors."

"_Wait,"_ Jake grasped the Doctor's arm as he started to head toward the building, "what about me?" he took a deep breath as the Doctor looked at him questioningly, "Is there any chance… I mean… do you think I could stick with you?" he swallowed, "be your companion?"

"But Clara –"

"Surely there's room for someone else too?" Jake begged, "you've had more than one companion in the past! That Tardis is huge and I don't take up a lot of room."

"I'm not sure about that," the Doctor studied him, "You're a bit lanky."

"Well so are you!" Jake protested.

The doctor stared again and considered for a moment. He scratched his chin, then circled Jake, studying him from every angle. Finally he stopped before him and tilted his head on one side.

"Not bad," he said, "You remind me of someone. Hair could do with a bit of work, but..." he paused as a slightly miffed Jake ran a hand through his subtly bleached locks, "perhaps a trial period would be acceptable. What do you say?"

"I say yes," A smile grew across Jake's face, "Thank you, Doctor!" he saluted as though in the army, "I won't let you down!"

"Good," the Doctor began to pace toward the station. "Come along Clara," he turned to Jake, "Come along, _Rory Two."_

Jake froze as his heart dropped right into his stomach.

"R-Rory _Two?!"_ he swallowed. He turned to Marci, his face falling, "He… he only wants me to tag along... because I remind him of _Rory?"_

Marci looked at him sympathetically.

"Sorry. Jake," she said, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

Jake looked down as he slowly started to follow on behind the Doctor. He didn't want to try filling another man's shoes – especially not someone who'd died more times than Kim's hair.


	6. Chapter 5: What's She?

**Chapter 5**

As the team plus their unexpected guests filtered back into the office Simon folded his arms and scowled at the back of Jake's head.

"Great," he mumbled, "he wants to be a time traveller. Oh, the irony!"

He was expecting someone to respond but no one was listening. _Why_ was no one _listening_? Didn't they realise he needed to rant about this highly important matter? "Robin?" he glanced around, "Rob?"

But Robin was too busy to hear, deep in conversation with Clara.

"No, no, no, the trick is not to use eggs that are too fresh. They don't hold air as well as the ones that have been hanging around for a little while."

"_Ahhhhhh,"_ Clara's face lit up as though all the questions she'd ever had in her life had been answered all in one go.

Simon stood in front of them, his hands on his hips.

"Rob," he said, "What are you doing?"

Robin frowned.

"I'm just giving Clara some tips about getting her soufflé to rise," he protested.

"Well _don't!"_ Simon cried.

"Why am I not allowed soufflé tips?" Clara frowned, somewhat bewildered by the controversial nature of this matter.

"You're buying into this!" he accused Robin.

"Buying into _what?"_ Robin cried.

"_This!"_ Simon flapped dramatically, "this whole stupid… weird… _ridiculous_ charade!"

"Charades?" the Doctor turned around, "I _love_ charades!"

"Oh yeah?" Simon turned to him crossly, "then why don't you try acting out the Silence?"

"Excuse me?" Clara eyed Simon crossly, "cookery discussion in progress."

Simon scowled at her, thought about making another snidey remark but didn't like the look on her face. It wasn't dissimilar to the expression Kim adopts before using violence.

"Fine," he barked, "stick your soufflé mix up your arse."

"…Ma'am," Kim said as she entered the office, "I'm just saying that I think the Doctor is probably a better Time Lord than the Guv would be. He's got a big blue box for one thing."

"Gene's got a big something, but it isn't blue," Alex let the words slip out before she could stop herself.

"Ew, ma'am, I did _not_ need to know that!" Kim cried, slamming her hands over her ears.

"At least mine's in me slacks and not under my bed," Gene barked as he passed by and Kim cringed.

"Sprung," she commented.

"What happened to that dalek in your office?" Robin asked her suddenly and Kim gulped.

"I don't know and I'm not going in to check!" she told him.

"It was probably looking for a kindred spirit," Gene snorted and Kim's angry glare turned in his direction.

"One more word and _I'll_ be the one doing the exterminating," she hissed.

"If you don't want to attract homicidal megalomaniac robots them don't turn _into_ one, Metal Mickey," Gene barked.

"Always with the robot jokes!" Kim cried, "I hope that Dalek is still in my office and I hope it finds its way directly into _yours_, exterminates your filing cabinet and threatens to do the same to your tackle!" she panted breathlessly, rant almost over, "It will save me a job at least!"

The Doctor studied Kim suspiciously. To her horror he began to circle her as he asked,

"So she's a cyborg hybrid?"

"I'm a _what?"_ Kim cried.

"Enough metal in 'er, she might as well be," Gene said.

"Just because I've got a few piercings he thinks I'm turning into a robot," Kim hissed, "which is ironic since he's ten seconds away from needing a metal plate!"

The doctor ignored her balled-up fists as he mused to himself,

"There is, of course, a president for converting flesh to machine."

Kim stared at him, aghast.

"I'm sorry?" she blinked, unable to comprehend his action.

"The Daleks," the doctor continued, reaching for his sonic screwdriver and wafting it dangerously in Kim's direction. "They saw the benefits of using humans for their own satisfaction."

"The only sink plunger you'll find here is the one they use when the canteen woman with the big backside has been making sprout soup and tipping away the leftovers," she snapped. As the sonic loomed into view in front of her face she snatched it away from him. "Don't you point that thing at me!"

The Doctor snatched it back and straightened his bow tie.

"_Subtract love, add anger,"_ he muttered.

Kim glared at him.

"What now?"

"That's what a… wise woman once said," the Doctor mumbled quietly, "subtract love, add anger." He paused, "that's how you make a Dalek."

All at once every one of Kim's friends and colleagues took a noticeable step away from her.

"What the hell are you all _doing?"_ she demanded, "I'm not a bloody dalek!"

"Not _yet,"_ the Doctor pointed out.

"You _are_ a very angry person, Kim," Simon pointed out.

"Oh, siding with the doctor now, are you?!" Kim cried.

"It does explain an awful lot," Jake commented.

"Like why you're about to have fifty percent fewer eyes to see from?" Kim threatened.

"You see?" Simon couldn't resist pointing out.

Kim began to feel quite distressed.

"Just _stop_ it!" she demanded, "the lot of you!"

A smug Gene folded his arms.

"Well well, Metal Mickey, he smirked, "it all makes sense now. The anger. The destructive nature. Inability to go up and down stairs…"

"That was only when I had a sprained ankle!" Kim cried.

"And all that metal," Gene sighed, tutted and shook his head. "We trusted you, Stringer, and all a;ong you wanted to exterminate us."

"It can however be arranged," Kim told him crossly but the Doctor interrupted before violence could break out.

"No," he said carefully, "I think we're safe."

Despite her anger towards the doctor for putting the idea in their heads in the first place Kim felt relieved by his interjection.

"Yes?" she prompted.

The doctor nodded.

"She's angry enough already. There's not much that a Dalek could do with this one."

Kim scowled.

"Hey!"

"Besides," the doctor continued, "even if they attempted a conversion I think you'd be OK."

Kim stared at him, waiting for a jibe about them being afraid she was going to snap their 'sink plunger' off but he seemed quite serious.

"What?" she frowned, "why?"

"You're immune."

Kim felt a strange shudder.

"What?"

But the Doctor had already lost interest in Kim and whether or not she was half-Dalek and was busy investigating a pot plant in the corner of the room.

"Look at this!" he cried, "Clara! Rory Two! I could use one of these for the Tardis. Brighten her up a little! Introduce some foliage!"

"No, wait, hang on," Kim began, attempting to find out more about her alleged immunity but it seemed she was too late. The doctor only had eyes for the pot plant.

"You know," Simon began, "it really _does_ explain so much."

Kim glanced around.

"What does?" she asked.

"All your anger," said Simon, "the violence. The black eyes and broken limbs. Your inability to prepare a soufflé."

That did it. Kim's rage struck new heights, even for her.

"I have _never_," she bellowed, "attempted to cook a bloody soufflé in my _life!"_

"Only because you can't cook."

"That's rich coming from someone who's favourite recipe is _'step one: open the phone book. Step two: call for pizza'!"_

The mention of pizza reminded Clara that it was lunchtime. In fact, allowing for time differences it was way past lunch as far as she was concerned. Her stomach growled as hunger pangs snuck up on her.

"Excuse me," she poked Marci on the shoulder and gave her a slightly awkward smile as she jumped, "Hi. I was just wondering where a couple of weary travellers might get something to eat while we wait to find out whether anyone's _actually_ going to turn into a dalek or not." She paused as she watched Gene trying to kick the Doctor out of his precious plant pot. "Or while world war three breaks out… over a plant."

"_No, were safe,"_ the Doctor called out, "_that doesn't happen until two thousand and twenty nine, when the BBC threaten to bring back Eldorado."_

Clara wasn't sure that was something they needed to know. She turned back to Marci, rubbing her hands hopefully.

"So… _anywhere?"_ she asked.

Clara's beautiful smile was making Marci turn weak at the knees as she replied apologetically,

"Well there's the canteen… but it's not exactly Michelin standard. Unless you count the tyre she uses to stand the crate of spouts on."

"Actually," Gene boomed as he finally succeeded in dislodging the Doctor from the plant pot, "that sounds like a bloody good idea. Get yer backsides down to the canteen."

"We're supposed to be getting _rid_ of them, not treating them to a slap-up lunch!" Simon hissed.

"What'd wrong, Shoebury?" Gene raised an eyebrow, "you don't think they should try the local cuisine…?" Simon stared at him blankly, "the local… _green_… cuisine?"

As Gene's words sank in a smile spread across Simon's face and he nodded slowly.

"Of course, he said, "you're absolutely right. What better way to welcome the doctor than with a lovely big portion of the local speciality?"

"Hooray!" The Doctor said, oblivious to Simon's sarcasm, "let's experience the culinary delights of nineteen ninety eight!"

"This way please," Simon smirked, leading the way. He began to feel his spirits rising and his hopes racing away with him. If anything was going to shift the Doctor and his companion it was going to be the sight of the green mountain in the canteen. Just this once sprouts were going to save the day.


	7. Chapter 6: Where Now?

**Chapter 6**

"_I never would have thought it was possible."_

"_Genius. Genius, I tell you."_

"_This is unbelievable."_

"_A veritable celebration of taste on my tongue."_

Gene folded his arms and stared in horror as the team - plus their special guests - returned to the office, each of them clutching something green and icy.

"_Shoebury!"_ he barked, "what in the name of all that's green and slimy is going on?"

Simon's expression reflected Gene's as he stomped in to the office, arms folded and brow creased with fury.

"The _Doctor_ created a new _recipe,"_ he snapped.

"Oh, it was nothing, really," the doctor waved his hand with a smile, "a moment of culinary inspiration."

"Sprout sorbet!" Jake held up a bowl, "it's really good!"

"Do you want to try some, Guv?" Marci offered, a spoon of green gunk looming dangerously in his direction.

"I would rather sample one of Stringer's fry-ups," he scowled.

"_Hey,"_ an angry Kim cried out, "My fry-ups are fantastic!" she paused sheepishly, "it's just everything _else_ I try to cook that goes wrong."

"Like soufflés?" Simon volunteered and got a thump for his trouble, "_Ow!"_ he rubbed his arm crossly. "They were right about that dalek thing."

"Gene, it's really very good," Alex approached him with more sorbet.

"Bolly, I expected more from you," Gene admonished her, "you've bought into the whole icy sprout cult. I'm ashamed of you."

"It's _really_ good though," Alex attempted to persuade him to try it but only ended up with a green ice mountain on the carpet. "_Gene!"_ she cried, "I was enjoying that!"

"Don't worry, Ma'am," Marci began, "I was going to get some more. I'll bring you some up."

"Ohh, thanks Marci," Alex smiled gratefully.

"I'll come too," said Robin, "I want to get that recipe."

"I'll come with you," Clara said, rushing after them and crashing into a furious Gene. "Sorry!"

Gene growled crossly as she took off towards the door again and yelled after her,

"_Walk, you stupid girl, and forget –"_ he paused and rolled his eyes as she disappeared from view, "forget about yer tastebuds because they'll be next to useless when you've downed another bowl of that green pus pudding!" he threw his arms in the air. "Is anyone even _listening_ to me?"

"Not really," said Simon.

Gene glared.

"Thank you for your contribution, Shoebury!" he barked.

~xXx~

Gene sat in his office, glaring out through the glass, quietly fuming. He had taken to hiding away after third helpings of sprout sorbet had been consumed and the woman with the big backside from the canteen had arrived to present the Doctor with a commemorative colander to thank him for the recipe that had turned her fortunes around. The applause that followed was the final straw for Gene and he stomped away to safety.

"Bloody sprouts," he mumbled as he fished his flask from his pocket, "I'll show him. I'll invent me own dessert of the gods. _Scotch Sorbet_. That'll do it." The door flew open beside him, making him jump a mile as the Doctor jumped through. "Can't you knock?"

"Not really," frowned the Doctor, "the door already opened." He hesitated. "I could try knocking on air. Maybe alter the speed of the molecules so that they remain steady for a while –"

"Don't bother, flappy-trap," Gene told him, "just tell me what your bony backside wants and get out of my office before you get a second round with the filing cabinet."

The Doctor gulped.

"Right," he said, "well, I was just going to inform you that the Michelin people are on their way."

Gene rested his chin in his hands despondently.

"Need tyres on that portaloo of yours, do you?"

"No, to assess my sprout sorbet."

That was as much as Gene could take. He stood up and slowly walked across to his dart board, extracting the darts and taking a few steps back.

"Ever played darts, Doctor?" he asked.

The doctor hesitated.

"It's not one of my favourite pastimes, no."

"Pity," said Gene, "I quite fancy a round. Let's say… five points for the chin and ten for the bow tie?"

"_What?"_ the doctor gulped as Gene began to aim, "Oh _no_ –" he spun around and skidded out of the doorway before Gene could take his throw.

"Bugger," Gene mumbled, "I had that chin for certain."

~xXx~

Marci wasn't giving up on Clara. Well, who _would?_ Pretty, clever, funny – it frustrated Marci that she couldn't work out whether Clara was already spoken for. She and the Doctor seemed very friendly. She _had_ enquired about Jake's status… but there still seemed to be something going on.

"If only there were enough Claras for all of us…" she sighed.

"And what am I?" Shaz asked, "chopped liver?"

"You can't tell me you haven't been looking at her too," Marci raised an eyebrow.

"She's nice, I suppose," said Shaz.

"You _suppose?"_ Marci repeated, "no _suppose_ about it,"

"Actually," Shaz nodded towards the Doctor who was busy trying to fashion a chin and bowtie protector from Poirot's in-tray, "it's her friend that's got my eye."

"The Doctor?" Marci asked, smiling a little at the idea, "really?"

"He's sort of cute," Shaz shrugged, "in a… clumsy kind of way," she watched as his chin and bow tie protector fell apart, injuring Simon in the process.

"_Sorry_," the Doctor said.

"Is he… and Clara…?" Shaz mused.

Marci sighed.

"I don't know," she said, "I was trying to figure it out."

Shaz raised an eyebrow.

"We could double-team them," she suggested.

"That is a sly and underhanded suggestion," Marci told her, "and I love you for it."

"They can't stay here all night anyway," Shaz pointed out, "and if they stay much longer there's no telling how many limbs they'll lose when the Guv finally snaps.

"That's true," said Marci, "shall we take them somewhere?"

"Club opens early tonight," Shaz pointed out.

Marci nodded slowly.

"I like your way of thinking," she said, "Come on, let's get _Rory Two_ on side!"

"_I heard that,"_ Jake spun around and narrowed his eyes, much to Shaz and Marci's amusement.

"Oh come _on_, Jake," Marci sighed as they walked towards him, "you have to admit it's a _little_ bit funny."

"Yeah, well not for me," Jake said crossly, "I've got an _opportunity_ here, Marci. This could be a dream come true but I want to be invited for who I am, not because I'm a shoddy knock-off replacement."

"Does that make Chief Inspector Thomas Amy?" Marci wondered.

"Not if you still want to have a best friend by the end of the day," Jake scowled.

Shaz didn't know who Amy was, nor who Rory was, but the whole thing was no stranger than… say, her ex-girlfriend coming back from the dead and mysteriously aging a decade in 18 months, or finding out that heaven was a pub. She had learnt to stop asking questions and just accept the insanity.

"Listen, Jake," she began, "we were thinking that the Doctor and Clara might like to get out of this place. You know, before the Guv actually learns how to kill people with his glare."

"Club opens in an hour," Marci pointed out, "early drinks for the work leavers."

"You want to take the Doctor… _clubbing_?" Jake asked incredulously.

"Take a look at that bum and tell me you don't want to see it wiggling on the dance floor," Shaz pointed to the Doctor who was climbing on a desk to avoid an angry Kim, rather like a cartoon housewife trying to escape a mouse.

"_Thanks to you I've had three people trying to take me apart with screwdrivers of the regular variety!"_ she yelled.

"_I was only theorising about your anger_!" the Doctor protested, _"like I said, you're immune!"_

"_Then tell that to the gits who keep skulking around with tools!" _Kim cried.

"We should probably rescue him before Kim takes _him_ apart," Marci pointed out.

Jake hesitated. As a companion it _was_ his duty to try to help keep the doctor safe.

"Alright," he said, "clubbing it is."

"_Yes!"_ Marci and Shaz beamed, hi-fiving one another. This was going to be a night out like no other.

~xXx~

Where it came from, Nelson had no idea.

How to get rid of it? He didn't even know where to start.

He was used to bolshie customers. Maybe not in heaven, but running the other side of the Railway Arms in Manchester. He'd served _Gene_ often enough for a start. But this went above and beyond.

Very slowly he peered over the top of the bar.

_It was still there._

With an uncharacteristically frantic yelp he ducked back below the bar and huddled up against it, heart pounding and brow sweating.

"Why did I _ever_ want to run a pub?" he questioned, almost sobbing with distress.

_It was still there._

He could hear it motoring up and down.

Very slowly he placed his fingertips on the edge of the bar. Then he pulled himself up to peer over again. Maybe if he could just get it to go closer to the door… _then_ what? Nope, that was stupid, he was thinking about how to get rid of a fly. Somehow he suspected the same technique was not going to work for destructive mechanical menaces.

Why did he never invest in a '_No Daleks Allowed'_ sign?

He slid back to the floor and put his head in his hands as his unwanted patron continued to roll back and forth. What did it want? A beer? How was it going to _drink_ it? Besides, a drunken dalek was something he didn't want to contemplate.

Nelson shook his head and gave a sigh of distress. This was _definitely_ going to be a night like no other.


	8. Chapter 7: Why Him?

**Chapter 7**

"I can't believe we've brought the Doctor clubbing."

Kim covered her face and hoped that no one in the club would recognise her as she watched the Doctor attempting to get jiggy with it.

"Where _else_ were we going to take him?" asked Marci.

"Anywhere's better than here!" cried Kim, "_look_ at him!" she pointed shame-faced to the Doctor, doing his best to emulate the late nineties dance moves and managing only to scare a group of dancing ladies with the speed of his erratic gyration.

"You don't have to stay," Simon pointed out, "you can go home if you want to."

"Says _you!"_ cried Kim, "you hate the club _and_ the Doctor, why are you here?"

Simon looked slightly awkward.

"I want to see the Doctor fall flat on his arse," he said sheepishly.

Kim gave a sigh.

"At least you're honest," She said.

"_Rory Two!"_ the Doctor cried, beckoning Jake over, _"let's see your moves!"_

"Oh Jesus Christ," Jake face-palmed and wished he could slide down the drain and into oblivion.

"Not enjoying your new role as companion then?" Shaz asked him, giggling a little.

"This is the _one_ place I have an ounce of credibility and I'm about to lose it by dancing next to the club repellent over there," he said, pointing as more clubbers gave him a wide berth. To his surprise Clara danced in his direction.

"_Come on,"_ she nodded towards the Doctor, _"if you want to join us you have to take the rough with the smooth!"_

"If the '_rough'_ is his trouser material then he's going to have some serious chaffing," Jake mumbled as the Doctor used frantic hand signals to beckon Jake again.

"Come _on!"_ he cried as his legs seemed to bend in eight different directions at once, "you're missing all the _fun!"_

"I'm having plenty of fun standing over here!" Jake protested, holding up his hand to refuse the request but Clara gripped him by the wrist and pulled him onto the dance floor.

"Come on, she insisted, "when you can travel through time humiliation is a temporary state"

Jake gulped as he found himself swept toward the Doctor, who was now rotating his hips to _Brimful of Asha_ as though operating an invisible hula hoop.

"So will my credibility be," he whined.

~xXx~

"_Things are getting strange, I'm starting to worry, this could be a case for Mulder and Scully…"_

"Isn't one bloody science fiction invasion enough?" Gene scowled and Alex sighed.

"It's a song," she told him. He looked at her blankly_. "Catatonia?"_

"No, but that's the state I'm going to be in if bloody _Chinstable_ doesn't sling his intergalactic hook by morning," Gene folded his arms.

Alex sighed again.

"That's the band," she said, "shit, you are so out of the loop since they closed _Bask."_

"If that's the state of the bloody charts then it's not a loop I want to be in," Gene told her. He stopped at the exit and peered outside momentarily. "Right. This way, Bollinger Knickers."

Alex closed her eyes and took a very deep breath.

"I'm _really_ not sure this is a good idea," she told Gene, but already knew she was wasting her breath.

"Neither was that sprout sorbet," Gene said with a belch, "Can't believe I let you talk me into trying that green-death-in-a-cone."

"There was nothing wrong with the sprout sorbet, it was having eight servings that caused the problem," Alex told him but before she could admonish him further he slipped out of the doors. _"Wait!"_ Rolling her eyes, Alex knew she had no option but to follow. "I'm going to regret this," she said aloud, "let it be known that I am stating _officially_ for the records that I am going to regret this."

"Your testimony will not hold up in a court of law," Gene told her as they approached the Tardis. He handed her the crowbar that he'd been carrying conspicuously through the car park. "Hold this."

Alex stared at Gene, then at the unwieldy object.

"No!"

"Just for a moment."

"I'm not getting my finger prints all over that and implicating myself in a…" she shook her head, "_crime across time, space and reality!"_

"It's a ruddy police box, Bols, I'm taking back what's rightfully ours!"

"It's _not_ though, Gene! It might _look_ like one on the outside but crack that thing open and who knows what otherworldly horrors you'll be releasing!"

"Like Shoebury's jumper?" Gene asked.

Alex shuddered.

"Not _quite_ that bad," she said.

Genre shook his head.

"You telling me you don't even want to take a _peek_ in there?" he asked. Despite herself Alex couldn't stop her gaze from flicking to the door.

"It's not our property, Gene," she tried to protest, "we'd be trespassing.

"_His_ property is trespassing on _our_ property," Gene reminded her, "if he didn't want us to look inside it then he shouldn't have _parked_ it there!"

"I don't think he had much of a choice," Alex pointed out but before she could protest any further she found the crowbar thrust into her hands and she had no choice but to take hold of it.

"Oh dear lord, I am going to spend the night on the other side of a cell," she groaned.

"Just checking the security on this thing," Gene told her, "maybe he keeps a key under the doormat."

"And where does he keep the doormat?" Alex sighed, one eyebrow rising.

Gene hesitated.

"Probably the same place as he keeps his charm, good looks and quick wits," he mumbled, "up his jacksy." He reached out to feel around the door for some kind of handle or lock but to his surprise it opened by itself and a warm glow seeped out from inside. Smugly he turned to Alex, folding his arms. "Looks like two can play at the door opening game," he said.

"Just because it's opened doesn't mean it's an invitation," Alex reminded him.

"Bollocks."

"The Super's fly was open yesterday but it wasn't an invitation for all and sundry to lure him into a Fenchurch East tryst!" Alex pointed out.

Gene raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, Bolly," he folded his arms, are you seriously trying to tell me you don't want to?"

Alex was confused by the look on Gene's face.

"Don't want to what?" she asked.

"Fancy a quick bunk up in the Tardis."

Alex's jaw dropped.

"Gene!" she hissed.

"I can see that twinkle in yer eye," Gene told her.

"That's not a twinkle, that's the reflection of the flashing blue lights when we get caught for indecent exposure and committing a lewd act in some… weird glowing _police_ box!"

"We bonked in heaven!"

"That was _different!"_

"How?"

Alex blushed.

"We had toilet roll to clean up afterwards for a start," she mumbled, her cheeks reddening, "and besides, that was in a pub!"

"He'll have a bog roll somewhere, he doesn't wipe his arse on the fragile fabric of the space/time continuum!"

"That's hardly the point!" Alex glanced around to make sure no one was watching. "How do I know I won't sit in the wrong spot and get a," she coughed, _"sonic screwdriver in a delicate place?"_ she saw Gene starting to smirk, working on a way to link her comment to his prowess and held up her hand. "_Don't_ answer that"

"Once in a lifetime, Bolly," Gene told her, "won't get another chance like this one."

Alex stared at the open door and the strange glow from within. She would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted.

"One comment about making me see stars and you're on your own," she warned him.

Gene looked at her, somewhat smugly.

"When we get started I'll be so busy blowing your mind that I won't have _time_ for crappy gags," he said and Alex rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," she said as Gene stepped inside the Tardis.

"Want me to give you some _space?"_

"You can give me back the sense or peace I felt in my life before I heard those puns," Alex glowered.

~xXx~

"I don't fucking believe it."

Simon scowled as he slurped his beer loudly. He was only slurping as a method of dealing with his anger.

"What's the matter?" Kim sighed.

"_Look!"_ Simon pointed angrily, "they're all _dancing_ with him! Everyone! The whole fucking dance floor!"

Maci danced across to them, en route to collect another drink.

"_Hey!"_ she beamed, "why don't you join us?"

"And _you!"_ Simon pointed, "I'm _ashamed_ of you!"

Marci looked stricken.

"_Why?"_ she asked worriedly.

"You're the best dancer in this club and you're joining _in!"_

Marci glanced across at the dance floor.

"We're 'doing' _The Doctor!"_ she protested.

_"I didn't wish to now that!"_ Simon covered his ears.

"It's a dance craze!" Marci explained, prising his hands from his ears, "the Doctor invented it!"

"Oh you _do_ surprise me!" Simon cried, his hands flailing in the air and beer flying in all directions, "leg movements like that, it had to be either him or an ostrich!"

Marci frowned and ignored the grumpy Simon, instead dancing her way to the bar and collecting a couple of alcopops. She rejoined the others a moment later and handed something blue and alcoholic to Clara.

"Here," she said.

"Oh thank you," Clara took it in surprise. She looked at the bottle and gave a little laugh. "It's… very nineteen ninety eight."

Marci could feel herself blushing a little.

"So you're from the future, yeah?" she asked and Clara nodded.

"To me _you're_ from the _past_," she pointed out.

"So," Marci began, "in the future… are you and the Doctor…"

"What?" Clara asked, then saw the look on Marci's face. "Oh, no," she closed her eyes and gave a slightly awkward smile, "we're friends. That's all."

"And in the future… to your future?" Marci asked, "do you _want_ to be more than friends?"

"Me and the _Doctor_?" Clara snorted a little, not quite meeting Marci's eye, "don't be daft."

"Oh," Marci raised her eyebrow, "OK." She sipped from her bottle. "Only, I don't think friends are supposed to look at friends the way you've been looking at him."

Clara's eyed widened as she gave an embarrassed laugh that showed a little too much dismay.

"What? _No!"_ she cried, laughing a little too loudly, "no, we're friends. Travelling companions. That's all. Nothing more."

Marci pulled a face and nodded.

"If you say so," she said.

Clara drank her blue alcoholic nonsense drink and stared across the dance floor where a far more relaxed Jake was allowing the Doctor to demonstrate the finer motions of his new dance craze.

"Besides," she said, "you've been giving me a perfectly good demonstration of how not to look at _friends."_

"What?" Marci wrinkled up her nose as Clara smiled and nodded in the direction of Jake.

"Talk about the way_ I_ look at my best friend?" she said, "maybe you were looking in the mirror."

Marci gave a confused laugh as Clara smiled again and danced away towards the Doctor and Jake.

"No, he's my best –" she began but it was wasted on Clara as the music drowned her out, "_best friend_."

She swallowed as she stared at Jake, dancing away without a care. She felt a little strange, a little wobbly inside with a sudden wave of butterflies deep down in her belly.

"Where did _that_ come from?" she murmured, then shook herself visibly to shoo them away. "This is stupid," she mumbled, "_really_ stupid." She laughed as she looked at Jake, the most familiar face in her life. He was her best friend. Very, _very_ best friend, but that was as far as it went, as far as it had _ever_ gone. "_Ridiculous,"_ she said with a little frown.

She moved towards them through the throng of people, all 'doing _the Doctor'_ on the dancefloor to join the fun but despite herself a little of the fluttering in the pit of her stomach remained. One or two of the butterflies just wouldn't go away and fluttered like crazy things, as erratically as the Doctor moved his legs. Suddenly Marci had a thing or two to think about.


	9. Chapter 8: Want What?

**Chapter 8**

Whistling to himself as he walked, Sam Tyler took off his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. It was just about time for his shift to begin. He enjoyed the occasional bit of bar work, a bit of housekeeping in heaven, and of course keeping an eye on Gene from afar. Ever since he'd crossed the line and entered the pub his job had been a unique and important one. Just as Gene was always there to look after his team, Sam was there to keep a watchful eye on Gene.

As he approached the door he was aware that things seemed a little quiet for an average evening in the Railway Arms. Where was the chatter? The rowdy singing? The women slapping Ray for putting his hands in places they shouldn't be?

"_Exterminate!"_

Well _that_ didn't sound like one of the regulars, that was for absolute certain.

Confused and curious Sam put his hand against the door and pushed it open. The last thing he expected as an overgrown sink plunger aimed in his direction.

"Hi," he frowned. It was the only thing that came to mind.

The Dalek regarded him suspiciously.

"_Leather jackets must be exterminated,"_ it told him and an instance of fear crossed his face.

"Oh _shit_, this isn't a good start to the night," he cried as he leapt behind the bar, leaving the jacket behind. Breathing heavily he found himself next to a terrified Nelson. "Is it too much to ask for a shift where nothing unusual happens?" he demanded.

"Don't be looking at me, this has me shaken to my roots!" Nelson protested as he rose up on his legs and peered over the bar. The Dalek had abandoned the idea of exterminating the leather jacket and instead had returned to motoring up and down the pub.

"Can't you _do_ something?" Sam pleaded.

"Like _what?"_ cried Nelson.

"Bar him?" Sam suggested, "cancel his tab?"

"My friend, I don't think you have as much experience at dealing with terrifying mechanicals as I do," Nelson told him.

"Oh yeah?" Sam looked at him incredulously "when did _you_ get experience with… terrifying mechanicals?"

Nelson looked slightly sheepish.

"When I got my toe stuck in my video player," he admitted. He popped back over the bar and squirted the dalek with a soda syphon in an attempt to repel it but it simply turned around and started to move back in Nelson's direction.

"Oh, good plan," Sam cried, "_brilliant_ plan, now he's come looking for spirits to go with that chaser!"

"_Exterminate,"_ the Dalek commented.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"They're the masters of originality, aren't they?" he commented.

"_Exterminate,"_ the Dalek repeated, _"Eggs… terminate."_

Sam and Nelson frowned at one another.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"_Eggs… stir… minate."_

Nelson cautiously peered over the bar.

"What did you say, mon brave?"

The dalek turned to him.

"_Eggs…"_ it began, "_I… would like… some eggs."_

Nelson swallowed.

"We don't do bar food," he apologised.

As the Dalek seemed to become angrier and Nelson feared his collection of _I Love London_ merchandise was about to be frazzled he changed his mind. "But maybe I can make an exception just this once…"

~xXx~

"Simon," Robin joined his friend by the bar, "aren't you coming to dance?"

"Not while everyone's doing that… stupid _craze_," Simon narrowed his eyes at the dance floor buzzing with people _,_

"Oh, lighten up" Robin told him, "it's such a hit everyone loves it!"

_"Everyone?"_

"Everyone who doesn't hate The Doctor."

Simon's eyes scanned the dance floor looking for someone who wasn't dancing to try to disprove Robin's point but instead his eyes were drawn to a familiar face, and one that he hadn't expected to see.

"Everyone… including _dead_ people," he frowned.

"Well, yeah, goes without saying here," Robin frowned.

"I mean _doubly_-dead people then," Simon swallowed as he pointed. "Look. Over there."

Robin frowned.

"What?"

"The brunette. Over there."

Rob in squinted as he looked in the direction Simon was pointing. There were so very many people, it could have been anyone.

"Which one?"

"The one I saw die two and a half _years_ ago!" cried Simon.

Robin frowned.

"Isn't that…" he swallowed, "Oh shit."

"Oh shit," Simon concurred. This was not a good sign. The sign became even less positive at the sight of Ray Carling attempting to invent a slightly ruder version of _The Doctor _that involved doing impressions of a large breasted lady and getting a slap for the trouble.

"What are they all _doing_ here?" Robin cried.

"I know why they all left the pub _before_," Simon commented and Robin groaned.

"Time was broken."

Simon nodded.

"Look at what happened this morning," he pointed out, "everyone fainted."

"And the Tardis materialised."

"The bloody pub's broken again!" Simon concluded.

"So what, they're all here somewhere?" Robin frowned.

A quick scan of the club seemed to confirm it.

"Looks that way," Simon groaned.

"What do we do?" cried Robin, "We've got to stop the dead ones from encountering the alive ones otherwise –" he did a vague impression of shooting stars. "Star bursts, all over the ceiling."

The two men looked at one another, hoping for inspiration to strike and when it didn't there was only one option left.

_"Get Kim!"_

~xXx~

"Gene?"

"_Oh Bolly…"_

"No, Gene…"

"What?"

"Is that you?"

A pause.

"That's a bit rigid even for me, Bols."

"I _knew_ it! I'm sitting on a bloody _lever!"_

"You want to be more careful, don't want to explain those kind of stains to the Chinned Wonder."

"_Me? You're_ the one who wanted to do it on the control panel! Or… whatever this thing is."

"Thought it would make a good story to tell the kids."

"Presuming there _are_ any, and presuming they're not conceived here and turn into… two headed monsters of something… the last thing I am going to tell them is the story of how their beloved mother and father _bonked_ on the desk of a fictional _spaceship!"_

A pause.

A soupcon of fumbling.

"_Ohhhh Bolly."_

"No, that's not me"

"What about now?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Good. Hold tight."

"Gene, careful! Mind where you're putting me!" another pause. "Uh oh."

"Another lever?"

"No, but my… _bottom_… made contact with… something…"

"And it wasn't with me hand."

"No, Gene, it was more like… Gene, what's that noise?"

"The pounding of yer heart at the prospect of a quick bunk up with the Manc Lion."

"I'm _serious!"_

"So was _I!"_

"Gene… I don't like this… something's happening… And I don't mean in a good way!"

"What was tha- _bugger!"_

"Oh this isn't good!"

"I know you make me world spin but…"

"Gene! We're moving!"

"I thought that dog piss was supposed to have knocked it senseless for twenty four hours!"

"Well all I know is that we'd better hold tight before it knocks _us_ senseless!"

As the Tardis swerved and swirled and Alex and Gene clung to one another, Alex realised she'd finally discovered a bumpier ride than Gene's driving after a flask full of scotch.

~xXx~

"I don't see we have a lot of choice in the matter," Kim began, "We'll have to round them up."

"That's easier said than done!" cried Simon, "this place is packed!"

"They should be quite easy to find," Kim countered, "just look for the ones that seem to be getting hit by other customers," she pointed to Eddie who was getting a slap from a woman who didn't like his suggestion about seeing his lucky underpants.

"Right," Simon closed his eyes and sighed.

"I tried calling Alex and Gene but there's no reply," Robin told them, "Not at home, not at the station."

"We'll have to deal with this ourselves then," Kim told them.

"Just the three of us?" Simon whined.

Kim hesitated.

"I'll find Shaz," she said, "she knows about the world now. She'll understand. We can do with all the help we can get." She watched Eddie receiving a kick in a delicate place. "Looks like we're not the _only_ ones who need help either," she said.

"Right," Robin straightened his shirt "let's get this lot back to their own boozer." He sighed "before Nelson goes sightseeing again."

~xXx~

The only sight that Nelson had seen for quite some time was that of a dalek roaming around his pub, asking for ingredients. He'd tried to placate the thing with bar snacks but throwing a packet of pork scratchings at the Dalek had only angered it further.

"It wants _eggs,"_ Sam repeated incredulously for the fourteenth time.

"_I require eggs,"_ the dalek confirmed.

Sam's expression screwed up in bewilderment.

"It's a psychotic, megalomaniac killing machine," he pointed out, "why does it want eggs?"

"_Hey,"_ the Dalek called accusingly, "don't talk to me like I'm not in the room!"

Sam and Nelson turned to one another, their mouths open.

"That didn't sound very dalek-like," Sam commented. He peered over the bar again as the dalek seemed to focus on him.

"_Eggs,"_ it said, sounding mechanical once again, "_Eggs-stir-minate."_

Sam ducked back down and turned to Nelson, a frantic look upon his face.

"Bar food or no bar food, you'd better hope you can rustle up an egg or two," he said, "It might be the only way to get this thing to come out of its –" he cringed, "-shell."

Nelson grimaced and shook his head.

"Sam, I am ashamed of you," he said.

Sam hung his head.

"So am I, Nelson," he admitted, "so am I.


	10. Chapter 9: Where is It?

**Chapter 9**

"Aren't the nineties wonderful?" The Doctor gestured around him, "everyone's six feet taller because of the shoes they're wearing!"

"Yes, and they've got a sixty-percent higher chance than usual of twisting an ankle," Clara pointed out.

"Your sums are inaccurate," the doctor told her, "it's only _fifty_ percent higher."

"Shaz," Kim hissed, grabbing her and pulling her away from the dancing party,

"What? What's wrong?" Shaz frowned, spinning around and wondering why Kim was looking so grim.

"We've got s problem and we need your help," Kim told her nervously.

"_Ohhh,"_ Shaz groaned, "but I was trying to get to know the Doctor better –"

"Good, that's good, that's _very_ good," Kim began quickly, "make sure that Marci and Jake stick with him and Clara too, OK?"

Shaz frowned.

"Erm, why?"

"Pub's turned its customers loose again," Kim said worriedly and Shaz didn't know what she was talking about.

"But the club doesn't close for… _oh,"_ her eyes widened as she spotted Eddie across the dance floor, "Oh my god! Don't let Marci see him!"

"That's the thing!" cried Kim, "I need you to distract her. Distract all four of them. Keep on dancing. We're going to round them up and take them back. _Again,"_ she shook her head. "Nelson should invest in an electronic tagging system or something for that lot."

"Will you be alright?" Shaz asked, concerned.

"We'll _have_ to be," she said, "there's no sign of the Guv and we need to get this lot back to the pub faster than the canteen sold out of sprout sorbet!"

"Well, OK," Shaz looked concerned but knew they just had to do what they had to do, "good luck."

Thank you," Kim sighed, "and good luck –" she watched the Doctor trying on a pair of platforms, "and for heaven's sake don't let him twist his ankle!"

~xXx~

"Nelson, if you haven't got any eggs out there then we're in some serious danger." Sam tried to face facts. The Dalek had only one thing on its mind.

"I don't understand its strange whim!" Nelson protested, "I watched Doctor Who from behind the sofa when I was just a boy, same as everyone! I cowered under the covers when the Daleks came on the screen! They're evil machines, they don't ask for ingredients!"

"Well _this_ one does!" Sam protested.

"_Egg sympathisers must be exterminated!"_ the dalek told them.

"We're not _sympathising_ with them!" Sam protested pathetically. He started to yearn for those happy, heady days of coma.

"_Exterminate!"_ the Dalek added for good measure.

"_Yeah, yeah,"_ Sam was getting a little tired of that catchphrase.

_"Exterminate! Eggs…. terminate… eggs… stir…"_ the Dalek's voice began to change suddenly, becoming lighter, less mechanical, _"eggs… put eggs… into a bowl, stir, beat in half the flour…"_

Sam and Nelson exchanged a look of utter bewilderment.

"I don't remember _this_ making me hide behind the sofa," Sam commented.

"_Beat… into flour mixture …making a smooth paste_," the Dalek continued, "_Mix well… mix well… stir… eggs, stir…"_

"Alright," Sam finally risked getting to his feet and looking over the bar, "are you a Dalek or a floating galloping gourmet?"

The dalek turned to Sam and began to shake.

"_Eggs!"_ it cried. Sparks started to fly and Sam dropped below the bar again.

"_Shit!"_ he cried, clutching his chest as his heart began to race, "a tip for you, Nelson. Never challenge the culinary expertise of a dalek!"

~xXx~

Simon shook his head as he led Lindsay and Eddie out of the club. This was breaking his heart. So many familiar faces, people he'd already had to mourn, now once again time was broken and they'd been let back into a world they'd departed from. He missed them. He really did. He suspected that the pub had never thrown out its regulars until things had become somewhat unpredictable of late. Now this was the third time. Simon could only hope that Nelson hadn't decided to partake in another sightseeing tour.

"Guys, it's been great to see you," he told them as he rubbed his arms, the spring evening air just starting to develop a chilly edge, "but we need to get you back."

He turned around in time to see Robin enticing Susannah and Malcolm out of the club with the promise of getting a kebab on the way back to the pub.

"Is that everyone?" he asked, watching Kim shoving an annoyed Ray towards the crowd of waifs and strays they'd managed to round up. Between them they'd managed to find just about all of the wandering souls, despite attempting to accost the wrong Shaz temporarily. A quick headcount later, the wanderers were on their way.

"I feel like we're on a bloody school trip," Kim commented as she walked along at the front of the crowd.

"Erm, Kim," Simon raised his hand and Kim turned around with a look of annoyance on her face.

"Do _not_ say you need to go to the toilet," she warned him and he took a step back nervously.

"Erm no, that's not it," Simon began although he could have done with visiting the loo before they'd left the club, "Where exactly are we going?"

Kim frowned.

"To the pub," she said.

"Yeah," Simon began slowly, "and where _is_ that exactly?"

"Well, it's…" Kim froze. She swallowed and frowned. "Um…"

"Yeah, where _is_ it?" Robin added.

"_Don't hassle me!" _Kim hissed.

"Gene makes it appear," Simon pointed out.

"Yes, I _know_ that," Kim hissed.

"What, are you saying we've got no boozer to go to?" Ray frowned, gagging for a pint.

"Just... _give_ me a minute," Kim hissed, "we'll think of something."

"I like this '_we'_ business," Simon snorted, "I've got _no_ bloody idea."

"There was no sign of Gene when I tried to get hold of him," Robin reminded them.

"Right, so we'll find a way to deal with this ourselves," Kim told them.

"What are you going to do; down a bottle of scotch, drop your voice by three octaves and start throwing people against filing cabinets to convince the pub you're Gene?" Simon suggested and received only a violent gesture in return. "You're doing a pretty good job of convincing _me_," he mumbled.

"Maybe you _could_ convince the pub you're the Guv," Robin considered.

_"Oh! Oh!"_ Simon hopped around as thought he'd just won the lottery, "there was this episode of Red Dwarf where –"

"Finish that sentence and _die!_" Kim threatened and Simon gulped.

"You're convincing me more and more that you're Gene right now," he mumbled.

"Kim," Robin caught her attention and looked at her seriously, "maybe it's not that farfetched."

Kim looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"In the absence of Gene you're probably the closest thing there is," he explained, "you've got his car, you've got his flask –"

"We're not even going to _mention_ what you did with his fiancée," Simon mumbled.

"Can the infidelity police please stand down?" Kim snapped, "this is_ just getting interesting!"_ she turned back to Robin and said nervously, "sometimes… the station… does _act_ like it thinks I'm him. The doors open and –"

"They opened for the git with the bow tie too," Simon pointed out.

"He's a bloody _time_ lord!" cried Kim "I think opening for him is the least the doors can do!"

"This from the woman that was about to exterminate him," Simon pointed out.

"I am _not_," Kim hissed, "a bloody _Dalek!"_

"But you are _something_," Robin pointed out, "come _on_ Kim, the pub is Gene's place. I'm uniform and Simon is –"

"Chopped liver," Simon mumbled.

"Already taken," Robin corrected, "He has a place remember? _Bask_. You've not got a place yet, and in the absence of both Gene and Alex you're the best chance of finding the Railway Arms."

Kim hesitated, staring at Robin. He made a lot of sense, he really did.

"Alright," she said in a slow, steady voice, "I think I understand." She took a deep breath, "maybe it's like lucid dreaming. Maybe I can make it appear?" she shook her head, "nah, second thoughts, lucid dreaming never worked for me. I'd try to wish up Agent Scully and get Skinner instead." She paused. "And I don't suppose any of you remember where you came from?" she addressed the crowd.

"You don't need the birds and the bees, talk do you?" Chris piped up., "only sometimes I'm a bit cloudy on that myself…"

"Never mind," Kim sighed. She looked at Robin. "Alright. What does Gene do?" she could see Robin working on a smart answer to that. "Don't bother," she said quickly, "OK, so he turns the corner and it's just _there_. Right?" Simon and Robin nodded hesitantly.

"Right," Simon agreed.

Kim took a deep breath.

"So," she said firmly, "We turn the corner. Right?"

Simon looked a little incredulous.

"Just like that?"

"And we believe it's there," Kim said sternly, "otherwise there's no chance of this working. OK?"

Simon and Robin nodded in unison.

"_OK,"_ they agreed.

Kim took a deep breath.

"Round the corner then," she began, "on the count of three. One, two…" closing her eyes, she raised a foot, _"three!"_

The unruly group stepped towards the turning.

Heaven from a brewery awaited them.


	11. Chapter 10: Who's She?

**Chapter 10**

"I can't believe it," Simon's jaw dropped, "It worked, it _actually_ worked."

Kim stared and swallowed, the pub standing ahead of them.

"It did," she couldn't take it in, "B-but –"

"Let's just be grateful that it's worked and question it later," Robin said. He sounded blunt but he didn't want Kim worrying about it. He could see the look on her face. Oddities were always worrying. "Come on, let's get this lot in before last orders."

"Right," Kim took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. She began to walk slowly forward, leading the rest of the crowd, one foot in front of another. The pub retained the eerie glow that they'd seen before but something felt wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it.

"if Nelson's buggered off to watch the building of the Millennium Dome then I'll –" she trailed off as she opened the door into the pub and found herself face to face with the most unexpected of sights.

"_Eggs?" _

Kim swallowed.

"I'm starting to wish the pub had decided to disobey our wishes," she squeaked.

~xXx~

Clara put her hands on her hips and gave a little smile at the sight of the Doctor sprawled out in a corner of the club, eyes closed and bowtie askew.

"What's –" Marci froze as she saw him, "Oh god, is he OK?"

"He's fine," Clara smiled, "you've all worn him out."

"I didn't even know the Doctor slept," Shaz commented.

"You know, I'm never too sure myself," Clara tilted her head to one side to study the sleeping Doctor, "but it seems that late nineties dance music has quite an effect on him."

"What are we going to do?" asked Marci, "we can't leave him here!"

As honorary companion Jake decided to step in and do his best to protect the Doctor from spending an uncomfortable night on the dance floor.

"Shaz, you live closest," he pointed out, "I'm sure we can carry him."

"_What?!"_ Shaz balked at the idea, "have you seen the length of him?!

"There's four of us and one doctor," Jake pointed out.

"Four –" Marci looked around, "where did everyone else go?"

Shaz cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Can't have been able to keep up with the Doctor's dance moves," she shrugged innocently.

"No wonder the poor thing's exhausted," Marci commented.

"Are we going to shift this guy or what?" asked Jake, "before someone spills a pin t over his bowtie."

Marci and Shaz muttered and groaned as they took a leg each and watched Jake and Clara taking the shoulders.

"Who would have thought it?" Marci commented, "nineties dance is the Doctor's Kryptonite!"

~xXx~

"What's going on?" Kim demanded as Sam ad Nelson peered over the bar. "Oh for goodness _sake_, have you two got any idea what you look like?"

"_Excuse_ me?" Sam challenged, "Homicidal killing machine in the pub! Or hadn't you noticed?"

"Well _I_ had one in my _office_ earlier!" Kim cried, "and I lived to tell the tale!" she paused and frowned. "Come to think of it, this is probably the same one."

"_Eggs,"_ it demanded.

"It's been saying that for _hours!"_ Sam shuddered.

"I told it already that I don't do bar food!" Nelson protested, "but it's very insistent."

"_Eggs… stir… minate…"_ the Dalek crackled a little like a speaker full of static.

"Woah, wait, what's going on?" Robin swallowed.

"It's going into some kind of egg-related meltdown," Sam said, finally rising to his full height until the dalek spun around a moment later and he dropped below the bar again, cursing profusely.

"_Eggs… stir… stir…"_ The Dalek seemed to stutter, "_stir, beat in half the flour…" _

"Great," Simon threw his hands in the air, "now it's going to share its favourite _recipes!"_

"Are none of you even the slightest bit worried about the murdering machine standing in front of you?" Sam couldn't believe their ignorance but Simon was still too busy getting angry about the Dalek's sudden love of cooking to care.

"Rob, this is clearly one for you," he snapped, "_You're_ the expert. Go and exchange recipes."

"I already shared my soufflé tips once today!" Robin protested, "I'm not letting any more of my closely guarded secrets escape!"

"_Soufflé?"_ the Dalek seemed to freeze up, which made everybody stare. _"Soufflé… tips?"_

Robin glanced at Kim and Simon, bewildered and unsure what to do.

"Uh…" he swallowed, "yes. W-why?"

"_My… soufflé_…" the Dalek's voice lost a little of its robotic edge and something approaching emotion started filtering through, _"I… my soufflé… wouldn't rise…"_ it seemed genuinely distressed, spinning on the spot, _"it burnt… my soufflé burnt…"_

Robin swallowed.

"I'm… really sorry to hear that," he said apologetically.

"_I can't… get… my soufflés… to rise…"_ The dalek cried.

"Well…" Robin gulped, "how old are the eggs you're using?"

"_Robin!"_ hissed Simon, slapping him on the arm, "don't give _recipes_ to the bloody thing, work out how to _destroy_ it!"

But Robin was too fixated on the confused Dalek as it said,

_"My eggs… are fresh…"  
_

Almost as though he'd forgotten that he was talking to a machine of extreme danger Robin seemed to relax, into a territory where he knew his stuff.

"_Ohhh,_ that's where you're going wrong," he said, "I mean, you'd automatically think fresh eggs were better, but ones that are a little older hold the air better."

"_Eggs?"_ the dalek repeated incredulously.

"…which helps your soufflé to rise," Robin concluded.

"_Soufflé… my soufflé…"_ the Dalek's voice rose, _"…was too beautiful to live…"_

Robin swallowed.

"Well," he began awkwardly, "you should try with older eggs and see what happens.

_"I will,"_ the Dalek told him, "_older... eggs… eggs…stirminate…"_ the Dalek began to shake and spark as the pressures of its soufflé woes got a little too much, _"exterminate! Exterminate fresh eggs!" _

"Oh _Jesus_, no," Simon cried, "Rob, what the _fuck_ have you done?!"

"I was only giving it soufflé tips!" Robin protested.

"It's a fucking _dalek_," Simon cried, "it doesn't need advice about cooking a soufflé to perfection!"

"_Exterminate! Exterminate! Eggs…. Stirminate…"_ sparks flew and the dalek spun and juddered on the spot as Robin and the others took a step back.

"_Shit!"_ cried Simon.

"It's gonna blow!" Robin panicked.

_"Everyone down!"_ Kim commanded and they dropped to the ground just as the sparks reached their peak and the lights in the pub started to flash on and off.

"Oh _hell_ no, what now?" cried Simon.

"_Stop panicking!"_ cried Kim.

"How can I stop panicking when there's a cooking _dalek_ about to explode?" cried Simon over the din of the electrical crackling and the frantic cries of extermination.

"You're not helping, Si!" Robin cried, covering his ears while Sam and Nelson took shelter behind the bar.

"This is the last time I come in early to help you open, Nelson!" Sam cried.

"This is the last time I let a _dalek_ in without asking for _ID!"_ Nelson countered

"_Exterminate!"_ the dalek cried, the lights and the crackling hitting their peak, andwith a loud bang the fuses blew, the lights went out and the dalek cried out no more.

_Silence._

Finally, silence fell.

Everything was dark and quiet for several moments with the gathered crowd too worried about being exterminated to do anything until finally someone asked,

"What's _actually_ going on?"

"I'll check the fuse box," Sam's voice called out into the darkness. There were footsteps, followed by some swearing as he walked into a doorway, then silence and finally an electrical hum. The lights slowly rose and with wide, shocked eyes everyone turned to see the remains of a dalek; melting, crumbling in the middle of the pub. Sitting in confusion in the middle of the debris was a pretty girl in a red dress who had less idea what was happening than anyone else did. She couldn't recall how she got there, she didn't know where she was, she barely knew _who_ she was. But with big, wide eyes she turned to Robin, swallowed and whispered the only words that were on her mind.

"So," her voice shook, "I should try older eggs then?"

~xXx~

"_Hhhhnngggggggfffff,"_ Jake groaned as they dropped the Doctor onto Shaz's bed.

"Aw," Shaz pursed her lips as she looked at him, "he looks cute while he's sleeping."

Clara was smiling distantly.

"Yeah," she agreed, "he does." The she realised what she had said without thinking and that three pairs of eyes were fixed on her. "I mean," she cleared her throat, "_everyone_ does. While they're sleeping. Don't they?" she flinched as she watched eyebrows rising. "You didn't hear that."

"'Course not," Jake smiled.

"Are you getting in with him or would you like the couch?" Shaz asked, half-teasing.

"The couch is fine," Clara blushed.

"I'll get the blankets," Shaz smiled and set off to lead Clara to the lounge.

Marci and Jake were left to stare at the Doctor as he lay there, mouth open and something approaching a snore emerging from it.

"This _companion_ lark isn't all it's cracked up to be," Jake commented and Marci looked at him curiously.

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow, "what were you expecting?"

"More excitement for a start," Jake folded his arm, "we didn't even _slightly_ almost die tonight."

"Plenty of time for that," Marci teased. She and Jake looked at one another and exchanged a soft laugh. "So," she said quietly, "have you thought any more about whether you're going to leave with him when he fixes that box tomorrow?" she noticed Jake's expression grew a little sad.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I've thought a lot."

"And?"

Jake looked at her seriously.

"I don't know yet, Marci," he said quietly, "this is my dream, it's something I always wanted and never thought was possible…" he closed his eyes and sighed.

"What?" Marci asked quietly and he turned to her sadly.

"There are some things I don't think I can give up," he whispered.

Marci swallowed.

"Then stay," she said quietly.

Jake felt strangely churned up inside as he looked from Marci to the sleeping Doctor. This was going to be the hardest decision of his life and no mistake.

~xXx~

"I _told_ you, I don't know how I got here or what's going on. I was looking for eggs… I was only looking for eggs…"

Kim felt a little sick. She swallowed and reached for Robin's hand as she stared at the confused young woman.

"I don't get it," she whispered, "that's _her,_ that's Clara… isn't it?"

Robin gave an anxious shrug.

"Clone? Duplicate? Long-lost evil twin?" he whispered.

Kim stepped towards her, trying not to step on any smouldering dalek remains.

"_Clara?"_ she asked quietly.

The woman turned to her.

"Who?"

Kim swallowed.

"You're _not_ Clara?" she blinked.

"No, I'm Oswin," said Oswin, "who are you? And what am I doing in this…" she looked around her, "Wait, am I back on earth?"

"Back on earth?" Simon repeated.

Kim swallowed as a dark feeling began to creep through her bones. It was a strange feeling that Gene and Alex, and more recently Simon and Robin knew well but one Kim had only started to experience.

"Why? Where were you?" she whispered.

"I was on a starliner," Oswin said, still confused, "the _Alaska_. We crashed." She sighed, "I was supposed to be junior entertainment manager. I only wanted to see the stars."

Simon shuddered.

"Yeah, stars are a bit of a sore point around here," he said.

Kim swallowed. There was more to the story than that, she knew it.

"What happened after you crashed?" she whispered.

"I've been stranded for so long," Oswin sighed, "defending myself from the Daleks and trying to create the ultimate soufflé."

Kim shuddered and turned away, unable to carry on asking questions. She found her hands moving slowly up and down her arms as though trying to warm them up and felt eternally grateful as Robin put a comforting arm against her shoulder.

"Kim?" he said quietly, "what's the matter?"

She looked up at him, her eyes sad.

"She's dead," she whispered, "isn't she?" she glanced at Oswin who was still busy fielding questions about her unexpected arrival from inside of a dalek, "the _soufflé_ girl. I can feel it." she saw Robin look down and nod slowly. He could feel it too. _"Shit."_

"I'm sorry," Robin said quietly, "It happens, you start to realise… you can tell. You can feel it…"

Kim nodded slowly.

"I think it started to happen a little bit before," she whispered, "at Fenchurch West. But I don't remember much about those days and it… it's taken a while since I transferred…" she glanced at Oswin who was busy shaking bits of burnt metal and plastic from her dress as Eddie practically tripped over his tongue trying to help her up. "What's she _doing_ here, Rob? I mean, in this world?."

Robin shook his head and bit his lip.

"We can only speculate, Kim," he whispered, "but at a guess I'd say…" he sighed deeply, "somehow her soul and her spirit were too strong to just fade away."

Kim stared at her with a heavy heart.

"_So she came here," _she whispered, "because that's what this world is all about."

"She must have come from the Doctor's universe," Robin said quietly.

"And she came to the Railway Arms because that's where all the good souls go," Kim whispered. She stepped towards Oswin who was complaining that she still had no eggs for her next soufflé and wasn't sure where her oven even was. "_Hey_," she said quietly.

Oswin turned to her.

"I'm usually more together than this," she said with an apologetic smile that seemed to be brimming over with life.

"It's fine," Kim reassured her, "I was just wondering if you knew how you found your way here?"

"N-n-n-not really," Oswin said slowly, "I remember crashing, protecting myself against the daleks at the asylum… then it all becomes a bit confusing. I remember there was a large chin and a man who wasn't called Nina…" she shook her head and closed her eyes, "I… my memory isn't what it used to be," she said, "there was a bang."

"A bang?" Kim repeated.

"Yes, and then I was somewhere else," Oswin looked around, "it wasn't here. It was an office."

Kim gave a little smile.

"_My_ office," she said quietly.

"I needed some eggs and all the shops were shut," Oswin said as though that made any more sense than anything else that had occurred that day.

"So you tried a pub," Sam finally found the guts to get to his feet and stop hiding behind the bar

"It was the only place open," Oswin said as though Sam should have known that.

Kim still felt sad to look at Oswin and know that she was dead. It was strange because it wasn't exactly unusual – every day she was surrounded by people who had passed away but this seemed more tragic somehow. The remains of the dalek gave more than a clue into what happened to her. She'd set off for a life of excitement, exploring the universe and ended up with wires instead of blood. It was no life for anyone. No life at all.

"Nelson," she felt nervous addressing the man who ran heaven but she could never forgive herself of she didn't at least try to give Oswin a future, "your pub. Do you ever wonder if you might need to lay on some entertainment for the regulars?" she eyes the crowd behind her "stop them wandering off so often?"

Nelson nodded as a smile spread across his face.

"As a matter of fact," he began, "I was thinking that very same thing."

"So you might have, for example," Kim continued, "a post in your establishment for a new junior entertainment manager?"

Oswin still looked as confused as she had the moment the lights went up but now there was a spark of hope. She looked eagerly at Nelson, the thought of having her very own pub to fill with entertainment making her smile.

"I know my stuff," she told him, "as long as you don't expect me to cater as well." she cringed. "I'm fantastic with cold snacks but I can't guarantee my soufflés will rise."

Nelson nodded slowly, smiling warmly at the stranger.

"I think we could find room for you here," he told her, "…how are you at bar work?"

Oswin considered for a moment.

"I could learn to like it," she said.

"Then," Nelson held out his hand, "welcome to the team."

Oswin hesitated just for a moment. She couldn't pretend to understand what had occurred in the last few minutes but when she thought about it the whole of the past year made little sense and she hadn't questioned it so far. It wasn't time to start now. With a wide smile she took Nelson's hand and shook on the deal.

"A pleasure to join you," she said as a few little cheers sounded from the gathering.

"Now that's sorted," Ray began, shoving his way to the front, "can I _please_ get a flaming pint before I die of thirst?"

"Coming right up, Ray," Sam reached for a glass.

Nelson turned to Kim, beckoning her over with a twitch of the head.

"Drinks on the house," he told her.

Kim's eyes widened with delight.

"Those are my favourite words," she said, "best make it two double scotches and a double brandy."

"Coming right up," Nelson reached for some glasses and built up a small collection of spirits on the bar in front of Kim. "It's a pleasure to meet you properly at last," he told her and Kim looked a little confused.

"It… _is?"_ she frowned.

Nelson nodded, then in a flash his accent faded away and he leaned in close.

"_The doors are always open for you,"_ he told her with a wink before he turned around and set about furnishing his regulars with their beverage of choice. Kim shuddered and swallowed, the moment catching her off guard.

"Kim?" Robin's voice caught her attention and she spun around.

"What?" she whispered.

"What's the matter?" he asked her, "you look like you've seen a ghost." He glanced around, "bad choice of words, but…"

Kim swallowed.

"Nothing," she whispered, "everything's fine." But Nelson's words stayed with her. Was there something she needed to know? It had been the strangest of days and it seemed that it wasn't over yet.

She reached for the glasses and furnished Robin and Simon with theirs before holding up her own and trying to shake off the strange feeling she had.

"So what do we drink to?" Simon asked.

"To me," Robin declared "for defeating the daleks single-handedly."

Kim gave him a withering look.

"_One_ dalek," she reminded him, "you defeated _one_ dalek. And you didn't defeat her, you just…" she frowned, "_out-soufflé'd_ her."

"Same thing," Robin pouted.

"I've got a better toast anyway," Kim told them, holding up her glass, "to time, space, reality and a world where no day is _ever_ dull."

"God, I'll drink to that," said Robin.

"_I'll_ drink _because_ of that," Simon added.

"Cheers," Kim said as they clinked their glasses and downed their drinks.

It had indeed been the strangest of days, and that was saying something. It had been proof of three things; that there were worlds beyond the two they knew, that their perceptions of reality were rather skewed and – above everything – that soufflés were more volatile than even Robin had ever known.

**The End**

_**A/N: I just want to say a really big thank you to everyone who's read this bizarre little crossover, and the epilogue will be posted on Friday along with the epilogue to my main fic!**_


	12. Epilogue: What? How?

**Epilogue**

"Guys! Guys, look at the sunrise!" Simon slumped around Kim and Robin's shoulders, almost dragging them to the ground as they slouched their way back to the station.

"Yes, Simon, it's beautiful," Robin grunted through gritted teeth as he struggled to stay upright, "how many of those free drinks did you have?"

"I _may_ have indulged in one too many," Simon hiccupped.

"_One_ too many?" Kim finally untangled Simon's arm from around her shoulders, "Come on, let's get inside before you create a rainbow yawn all over the side of the tardis."

"Speaking of which," Robin froze in his tracks, "where _is_ the pee-riddled box?"

"Oh _shit,"_ Kim covered her mouth with her hands, "it's _gone_, it's bloody _vanished!"_

"It can't have gone far," Robin began while Simon cackled with laughter.

"It serves him right, the cocky chin-riddled idiot," he said.

"Yeah, you say that now, you won't say that if the Doctor's stuck here for eternity, helping you file all your documents under 'P' for '_Police work'."_

Simon froze.

"Bugger," he cursed.

Just as the three of them began to get increasingly concerned about the disappearance of the large blue box, a sound that subtitles could only have described as _metallic thrumming_ began and to their immense surprise the Tardis materialised right where they'd left it the day before. Two very angry, exhausted and frustrated figured stumbled out.

"That is the _last_ time I have sex in a spaceship."

That wasn't a sentence any of them expected to hear. Simon covered his ears and started humming loudly while Kim and Robin clung to each other in fear of what they were going to hear next.

"You got a free trip to the Tower of London, didn't you, Bols?" Gene accused.

"Yes, on the _inside!"_ Alex cried.

"You were the one with sticky fingers."

"I was _not_ trying to steal the crown jewels!"

"You have yer hands on _mine_ enough…"

_"Ahem?"_ Kim folded her arms and stared at them both, tapping her foot as Alex and Gene stopped arguing and turned to find themselves being observed. Gene swallowed, attempting to cover the ruff and period costume he pretended he wasn't wearing before wagging his finger threateningly in their direction.

"You saw nothing," he told them.

"I _wish_ I'd seen nothing, I'll need therapy for years," Simon wept, covering his eyes.

"Let's just get changed before the Doctor comes back and discovers our unexpected joyride," Alex said crossly, smoothing out the skirt with seventeen layers of petticoats beneath it, "and before he discovers the stains."

"What stains?" Simon asked before the truth dawned on him and he clapped his hands over his ears again. "_Forget_ it! I don't want to know

Gene stared at Kim who had a piece of fried dalek stuck in her hair.

"Where have _you_ rainbow-minded minions been?" he demanded, "down the scrapheap?"

"No, Guv," Kim said quietly, "we visited your local, actually." She gave a distant smile. "Long story."

"Nelson into robotics now is he?" Gene scowled.

"Like I said, long story."

"Come on, let's get inside before we get slung in the cells for being drunk and disorderly," Robin sighed.

~xXx~

Gene, Alex, Simon, Robin and Kim sat in silence in the office as they watched the clock and waited for the doctor to return. No one was really sure what to say to n another and Simon had been sneaking disgusted looks at Gene for the last half an hour after discovering that he and Alex had been up to things they had no right to do in another man's Tardis, despite the fact that he hated the doctor with a passion.

"Don't you say a word, Shoebury," Gene warned, pointing a stapler threateningly in his direction.

"Couldn't if I wanted to," Simon folded his arms, "my modesty prevents me from describing the act."

"You're not so innocent," Gene narrowed his eyes and Simon gulped.

"At least I've never bonked in another man's Tardis," he said.

"Not a word about the Dalek either," Kim warned, "one word and he'll have that bloody screwdriver shoved up my nostril, checking for immunity again."

"Excuse me?" Alex frowned, "what dalek is this? The one in your office?"

"It… _migrated,"_ Robin said awkwardly.

"And not a word about the pub either," Kim warned.

Gene scowled.

"What's this about me pub?" he demanded and Kim bit her lip.

"Erm," she cleared her throat, not sure how pleased that Gene would be about a mechanical menace taking over his local temporarily, "nothing, Guv."

"Took the dalek for a pint," Robin lied.

"Bloody thing was already legless," Gene mumbled, folding his arms.

"At least now I know the way to deal with a dalek is by offering soufflé tips," Robin commented, despite Kim's frantic shushing.

"That's right is it, batman?" Gene turned a sarcastic glance to Kim. "Now I know what to do when Metal Mickey's giving me lip."

"What's that, guv?" Kim began crossly, "you want me to tell the Doctor your _crown jewels _have been all over his control panel?"

"Can we _please_ stop mentioning crown jewels?" Alex groaned, her head in her hands.

They all heard the Doctor approaching long before he arrived. His unexpected nap had left him revitalised and full of beans and unfortunately Gene was about to catch the brunt of them. He steeled himself, leaned back and fixed a glare on the doorway to wait for his arrival but the Doctor was dipping into every doorway along the route and by the time he got to the office Gene had been waiting in that stance for around two minutes.

"What a fine morning, ladies and gentlemen," he beamed as he finally swept into the doorway like some sort of cruise liner entertainment official.

"So you off then?" were the first words out of Gene's mouth.

"Almost," the Doctor seemed oblivious to Gene's bad will, "I just need to see if the old thing is back in full functioning order."

"It is," Gene huffed, "Believe me."

"She's a she," the doctor told him, receiving a mocking laugh from Gene.

"Can't get a real bird so you have to make yer cardboard box into one?" he challenged.

"_You_ call your _car_ a 'she'," Simon blurted without thinking ad found Gene's angry stare on him.

"So you don't value your limbs any more, Shoebury?" he barked.

Simon gulped.

"So about that tardis…" he began, scrambling quickly to his feet.

"Just need to get a few checks out of the way and we will leave you in peace," the doctor told them, "thank you for your hospitality and also the free colander from the canteen."

"It wasn't a gift, she just threw that at you for using your sonic screwdriver to affect the size of her arse," Kim explained.

The doctor pulled a slight face as he thought about it.

"Still free," he said diplomatically and spun on his heels.

~xXx~

"All in good, fine working order," the Doctor confirmed, peering out of the Tardis at the gathered crowd.

Gene leaned against the side of the box, arms folded, refusing to look at him.

"Could have told _you_ that, bowtie boy," he mumbled.

"Something sticky on some of the controls though," the doctor frowned, rubbing his hands against his trousers as Alex spluttered and turned a vibrant shade of red.

"Well, don't you have a Wimbledon final to get to?" she asked, trying desperately to compose herself.

"Yes, yes, we do," the doctor agreed as he held out a hand toward Clara. "_Clara!"_

Clara smiled warmly at the group of friends she'd made, a little reluctant to say goodbye. That was the difficulty with always moving on, she realised. You had to say goodbye to all the people who made you smile. It was something Gene and the others saw from the other side with those who dropped in and out of their lives.

"Clara," Marci caught her arm as she stepped toward the Tardis. She seemed a little nervous as she gave her a quick smile. "If things don't work out between you and the Doctor," she began, clearing her throat, "there's, erm," she tried not to smirk as she looked Clara in the eye, "you're always welcome in nineteen ninety eight."

Clara's smile put Marci at ease.

"Well, thank you," she said, "I'll remember that –"

"_Clara!"_

Clara pulled a face and laughed.

"Duty calls."

She nipped inside the Tardis as the Doctor leaned out of the door.

"And what about you?" he looked at Jake who seemed hesitant and anxious,

"What _about_ me?" he asked quietly.

"Are you ready to join us?" the Doctor asked, "see the stars? Travel through time? Introduce sprout sorbet to the far reaches of the galaxy?"

Jake swallowed, glancing at Marci and Robin, both of whom looked sad and resigned to a goodbye. He looked back at the Doctor who was beckoning him encouragingly. He took a deep breath and knew what he had to do.

"Nah," he said quietly. He was aware of Marci's head snapping up in shock. "I think I'll give it a miss." He paused, "_this_ time."

"Are you certain?" the Doctor couldn't quite believe Rory Two was turning him down, "this is a once in a lifetime _opportunity!"_

"It is, it is," Jake hesitated, "but," he looked at the crowd around him, "But my life is here." He could see a look of genuine surprise on Marci's face and a happy smile spreading across Robin's. "But thank you," he said was a happy nod, "because these last twenty four hours are something I won't forget."

"Well, if you're sure I can't change your mind," the Doctor sighed and smiled, "enjoy your life, Jake."

Jake felt himself tearing up as the Doctor finally used his name.

"_You too,"_ he whispered, _"Doctor."_

The doctor gave a wave to the coppers around him.

"Goodbye and thank you," he said, before glancing at Kim, "try not to turn into a machine."

The doctor seemed oblivious to the murderous look Kim threw his way as Robin boasted,

"It's alright, I know how to deal with that."

"You are _not_ overpowering me with a bloody _soufflé,"_ Kim threatened.

"Soufflés?" Clara peered out if the door and looked at them curiously.

"_Long story,"_ Robin muttered as Kim added, _"Don't ask."_

"Alright, we won't" the Doctor clapped his hands, "we must go. Pete Sampras is waiting!"

"Goodbye, farewell, don't accidentally burn yer arse on a passing sun or anything, will you?" Gene grumbled as he kicked the Tardis and began to march back towards the station.

The doctor gave a final wave and closed the door as the others waved back. There were a few moments of intense metallic thrumming and the Tardis faded in and out of view until it disappeared completely, leaving nothing but a little scorched square on the ground. For a few moments no one could quite believe the strange times were over. They stared at the empty space. The only word uttered was from Jake.

"_Wow,"_ he whispered. Before he could say another word a flying Marci launched herself in his direction and hugged him frantically.

"_You stayed,"_ she whispered.

"Won't be worth my while if you strangle me," Jake choked as Marci hugged him a little too tightly. He found Robin joining the hug and himself even less able to breathe. "Oh come on, guys, you didn't think I was really going to leave you, did you?"

"You were dead set on it yesterday," Robin reminded him as they finally stopped half-strangling Jake with their hug and he caught his breath.

"Yeah, well," he took a deep breath, "I suppose sometimes you don't know when you're onto a good thing," he smiled at the people he couldn't quite bear to leave behind. "At least I know now." He thought Marci looked strangely awkward and a little coy but didn't know why and didn't have a lot of time to wonder as Alex began to walk back towards the station.

"Well," she said, "the fun is over, ladies and gentlemen. It's time to start clearing the scum from the street instead of clearing the dog wee from the tardis,"

One by one they turned and began to follow Alex. They knew that she was right, The strangest 24 hours in the history of Fenchurch East had passed by – and that was truly saying something.

Yet bizarrely things felt a little unfinished. They couldn't put their finger on what it was but none could shake the feeling that they'd be seeing the Doctor and his companion again one day.

"_Until the next time,"_ Jake whispered under his breath.

As they walked into the station and left their adventure behind Marci turned to him, chewed on her lip and creased her brow with confusion as she said quietly,

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

Marci hesitated.

"This… this is nineteen ninety eight," she whispered, "isn't it?"

Jake frowned.

"Anyone would think _you_ were the one heading on adventures through time," he joked but she looked so stressed that he knew this wasn't a joke, "yeah, 'course it is."

Marci swallowed.

"Doctor Who," she began, "when was it last on?"

"What?"

"Answer me, Jake!"

Jake took a step back.

"Well the TV movie was on two years ago," he said.

"The TV movie?"

"Yeah."

"Doctor number Eight."

"What's his name McGann, yeah." He paused as the thought Marci had yet to speak finally occurred to him and they stopped walking to look at one another, _"The eighth doctor,"_ he whispered, "was the _last_ Doctor."

"If this is nineteen ninety eight," Marci whispered, "then why do we remember another three doctors that don't exist?"

Jake froze. He stopped moving, stopped talking, almost damn well stopped breathing. He had been so excited that he hadn't even _thought_… _neither_ of them had. They hadn't questioned it. But it was true.

"_Doctor Who was cancelled,"_ he whispered, "there was no such… no new… then how…?"

Both stared at one another, neither knowing what to say. There was nothing _to_ say. Their minds were in possession of impossible memories of days as yet unlived. They reached for one another's hand and held on for dear life, a touch of safety in a world of confusion and didn't dare speak another word.

But as the starlight glistened overhead momentarily their realisation wasn't one that could be ignored forever.

**The End**

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N: This really is one of the most fun things I've done since I started writing again and I enjoyed every minute of it! I wasn't sure about going for it but I'm so glad I did! There were so many other things I wanted to put in that I didn't have time to explore so there may well be another crossover at some point in the future.**_

_**Thank you so much for following this oddity, with massive thanks to Jess and Charlotte for all your support and encouragement, especially to jess for hyping me up about the idea until I absolutely had to write it!**_

_**Maybe now I can stop crying about Oswin's fate!**_


End file.
